


Heir of Obsidian

by LesBaguettes



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, sarah j mass, throne of glass fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesBaguettes/pseuds/LesBaguettes
Summary: Decades have passed since Erawan's demise, and a new era of prosperity has blanketed Eriliea. The land and people are thriving, having adjusted to life without the Gods. But unbeknownst to the people, a black poison - Morath's secret legacy - is once again clawing its way back to the surface.As the Cadre gather around Aelin in preparation for her daughter's birth, Benji Galathynius, the 'spare' to the throne, becomes increasingly isolated from the family. However, one dark evening, Benji intercepts a secret letter meant for his parents. Deciding the letter's contents is the perfect opportunity to finally prove his worth to the world, he forms a new-age cadre to battle the encroaching evil. Rounding up his friends, Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard, Luka Lochan and Quinn Ashryver, a new generation prepares to finally end the threat that has plagued their world for centuries.No matter the cost.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue - Lars

The forest was a labyrinth - shrouded in darkness and slated with ice. Movement was sparse, refined to the soft whistling of trees and the occasional hoot of a great barn owl. A great, waning moon hung stoically in the sky, signally to the creatures beneath it the hour of the night: midnight.  
Hidden in the shadows of a great, frosted pine stood a boy. His porcelain cheeks were flushed from the bitter cold, and his thin, pale figure spoke tales of a cruel winter. With a barely audible grunt, the boy emerged from the shadows of the snow-clad pines, continuing his journey through the crisp forest. With every step, spindles and sticks snapped beneath him, each crack deafening in the silence of the night. He brushed a strand of shaggy, inky hair away from his face, allowing his gold-flecked, luminescent eyes to scan his environment, with the subtlety and ferocity of a wolf examining its prey. For two weeks the boy had traveled without reprieve through the Eastern continent, stopping only in small fishing villages to replenish his strength and listen to the gossip of the boisterous, ignorant townsfolk. Through desert, mountain, and city, he'd followed the summons inside his head. The thumping - the yearning - in his blood which had relentlessly pulled him towards the unknown, to this forest.  
It had been weeks since the persistent nagging had begun. At first, he had tried to suppress the urges, but it was as if somebody had planted a hook inside his brain and was relentlessly reeling the line. He couldn't silence the summons; they egged him on even when he was sleeping, but now...  
The glow of the moon cast a light over the layers of white frost. He had always loved the snow: its starkness. How, even now, it framed the darkness of the night-hooded pines. He continued hesitantly, still hooded by the safety of the trees.  
Finally, the boy approached a small, sparse clearing. The clearing was circular and clad with snow, with only large boulders contributing to the variation of the landscape. He released a shaky breath, and something lurched inside of him. This. This was the place. Hesitantly, he emerged from the security of the tree line, his dark eyes still searching for threat. The mysterious presence which had haunted his consciousness for weeks suddenly silenced, leaving his mind uncomfortably empty. In the wake of its absence, he finally gleaned some remembrance of himself. Lars - his name was Lars. And, he had run away from his home...because...

Flashes of white, snow-laden peaks and harsh, desolate valleys - the visions had been bothering him for weeks. The brief but unclouded glimpses had lead him to this place. Again, he felt the world fade and sounds dim as he was thrust into something that was not his own. Only, unlike his previous visions, this time his perception of being vanished completely; he did not know where he was, who he was. The scenery in his mind was familiar, but rather than endless, dark trees, a shack appeared before him, snugly hidden in the mountain peaks. From his vantage point, he could see a woman advancing - although calling her a woman would be insulting. She moved with an ancient malice, her wild mane of golden hair restrained only by a thin, braided band. Behind her a stooped man approached, shielding himself with a crossbow, he was bowed by weather but not weakened or frail. As she turned her black eyes flashed, as they met the mans. The man's attempt to defend himself was futile, even he could tell. Golden flecks glinted in her eyes, the atmosphere…changed, the air becoming charged, it was building, the story was unfolding, the answers were - and just like that, the vision vanished. Slipped through his grasp. He shifted, disturbed by the intensity of it. There were so many unknowns.  
In a desperate grasp at control Lars focused upon the clearing with growing intensity. One curious step after the other, he explored the seemingly desolate space. Why he had felt the need to travel for so long, so far, to reach this place was beyond him. He'd thought that he'd be provided with answers once he finally reached his destination. Thought that there'd be somebody to help him, explain why  
He paused. His neck began to prickle, and a powerful gust filled the air. The pines surrounding him bucked and creaked as if they were slowly being uprooted. Lars' body turned to ice, and the reasonable part of his brain reminded him that in these situations people usually ran. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists as the wind whipped his hair into a frenzy. Spinning on his heel, ice crunching beneath his feet, Lars sprinted towards the tree line, desperate to be in the safety of the swaying pines. The gust built in intensity, and the soft snow began to melt as the gale became warmer. In confusion, Lars tilted his head backwards, attempting to discern why the temperature was rapidly rising. Shock spilled across his features.  
In the center of the clearing, inches from where he had been standing, was a swirling rip. A gash in the world. And it bled black blood. Powerful gales swirled around it, fueled it, caused it to become greater, more powerful. Lars mind was frozen - in shock. He willed his body to move.

Legs shaking, frail body wavering in the wind, Lars began to work his way towards the rip. The mutilated gash murmured, a rippling of power. He felt a sudden conviction, a need to discover what had called him here tonight. He needed to know who he was. What he was. His blood warmed in agreement.  
Barely a few feet away from the rip, Lars froze. As he gazed into the rip's swirling depths, images began to form. He saw his life: him making bread with his mother, him learning to write, and his friend, Charlie, shaping the water of a fountain into a dove. He smiled, immersed in the images which spoke of a happier, fuller life. Without warning, the scene darkened, and a vision of a stone-clad chamber filled the scene. Ghastly shrieks filled the winter air as a blonde haired woman cried out, black and red blood gushing from her swollen stomach. Lars recoiled and took a step back in disgust, startled at the sudden change in scenery.

The vision faded out again, but this time a barren, abandoned wasteland emerged. The land was dead - only carcasses and blood-soaked dirt filled its endless expanse. He squinted, searching for anything which might reveal the location of this strange, unknown place. In the rip's distance, he spied a black figure rapidly leaping over the scorching land, approaching him at great speeds. He moved forward, eager to discover who was approaching him. Who might provide him with answers.  
A body appeared before the hole, manifesting into this world - black as obsidian, muscled, and tall. The eyes of the figure stared at him as black and sinister as the darkened night. Lars took a step back. Its lips were thin and peeled, its build unworldly. He gasped, stumbling backwards from the malevolent face staring hungrily at him.

He tried to scream, but his voice rasped. It's eyes glinted with malice as the demon simply smiled.


	2. Luka Lochan

Luka Lochan sprinted through Southern Terresan’s grass-laden fields, devouring the soft land beneath his feet. The cold, cruel winter was slowly melting into spring, the grass beneath him lush and blooming with golden primroses. The potent smell of flowers overwhelmed his senses, causing the world to spin slightly and a loud sneeze to escape his mouth. Luka sniffled and quickly whipped his head up, resetting his feet after a near slip in focus. Turning his attention once again to the race. 

To his sides he could just make out his siblings gaining on him, their huffing screeches of foul play and elated triumphs following him across the sweeping fields of the estate. Behind them, they left a trampled and upturned mess, the squawking of distressed chickens and their snooty rooster attempting to return the wreckage of the coop into the peaceful semblance it had been only minutes before. Above, mischievous crows dive-bombed lumps of hay in the hope of an easy breakfast. As the children sped past them, they screeched in distress before taking to the skies once again. Their war-cry as they traversed the quaint Perranth estate was a shrill wake-up call for any soul hoping for a sleep-in and an egging reminder to the children that the race was still on. All the Lochan siblings shared vague similarity in looks, with golden, sun-kissed skin, chocolate brown eyes, and sinfully long eyelashes. However, focusing into their individual person revealed the minute differences, the freckles, smiles and tans, that formed the rowdy but sturdy Lochan family. Raised solely by their father, the children were fairly independent; they knew how to provide for themselves, but found the most comfort when in one another's company. 

They sprinted and leapt over the landscape, a squealing horde all laser-focused on one goal: to win. And, within even the best of them, the ever present need to make life hell for the competition. Luka quickly glanced to his right, only to witness his eldest brother, Bowie, smile mischievously at him and raise his middle finger in an obscene gesture. Luka laughed softly before continuing the race with renewed vigour. The morning light cast a warm glow over the seemingly-endless field, droplets of sun lighting the lofty grass around them. 

Every dawn, the Lochan children partook in a race which revolved around an incredibly important task: collecting the chicken’s eggs. The coop had been positioned in the furthest paddock and it was a largely debated topic over whether the design choice was a joke on their parents part or just bad planning. However, there was no doubt that their mother could take full credit for presenting the idea of the famed 'race' and the competition each morning in her honour had become a foolproof way of determining the children's pecking order.

The siblings reveled in the liberty that came form such a brutal but fun ritual. And on such a spring morning, the weaker light presented a murky landscape, and for a competitive person, an ideal scenario for some of the dirtier tricks which could innocently be blamed on a loose chicken or hidden tree root. Ruthless nature, however, was not a family trait all the siblings could claim so readily, so, it was safe to say Luka hardly ever won. Sweat beaded above his brow, and he raised a calloused hand to wipe the droplets of sweat off his forehead. In the distance loomed a grand and sprawling residence the Lochan home. He was finally on the home stretch, barely a hundred feet from the beautiful house before him. And, most importantly, he was in the lead. With a final, desperate push, Luka leapt through the wrought-iron gates, entering the sun kissed, cobbled courtyard of his home. He gazed for a minute at the solid, marble statues glinting in the morning sun, inhaling the welcoming smell of morning dew and freshly baked bread before whirling to face the heaving faces of his siblings, alight with the adrenaline of his morning adventure. Ten dark, annoyed eyes stared back at him, unveiled disbelief apparent on their faces.

“You cheated,” announced Gawain, upturned nose held high in the air and hair fluffed with straw. She was the youngest, yet most fierce, Lochan. And her birds nest hair was indistinct in comparison to the broken egg yolks dribbling down the front of her simple nightgown, but her expression was all seriousness. “You must have – I reached the coop way before you. No way you collected your quota. How many you got?’ Luka just grinned and slowly reached into the folds of his soft, leather jacket, producing five, misshapen, unbroken eggs.

“I collected my quota, you little runt,” Luka replied good-naturedly, his tawny eyes twinkling and dimples emerging on his face as he began to banter with his wild little sister. “You just need to become accustomed to losing – and, of course, accept that I will always be superior.” The remaining younger Lochans – Livio, Linus, and Otsana – eyed him mischievously, and promised that tomorrow would not be so easy for him before sprinting towards the kitchens and the sizzling smell of bacon. The siblings could have argued for hours, but when food was waiting, their little spats were quickly resolved.

As Luka prepared to follow his dark-haired siblings, Bowie motioned for him to remain. Bowie had always been the most serious of them all; being the oldest dictated that he had to maintain an appearance of responsibility. Luka studied his eldest brother: his crudely-cut brown hair, deeply tanned skin, and warm, almond-shaped eyes were familiar but it was his smile that framed his face with captivating charm that made him Bowie. His brother was way older than him, but, at age seventeen Luka was almost his height. For a moment, they stood in silence; the soft trickling of the courtyard's fountain and the distant morning calls of the bluebirds deepening with each second of quiet. The statues surrounding them seemed to watch with keen, watchful eyes. Luka shifted uncomfortably with the eggs awkwardly held in his grasp. He was impatient to join the others and relish the tantalizing aroma of breakfast.

“You did cheat, didn’t you?” Bowie finally inquired, his eyes laced with suspicion. Luka sighed, unable to withhold the truth from his eldest brother - his mentor.

"I didn't cheat, not exactly, more... Played with the rules a little,' he admitted. Bowie shook his head resignedly, a small laugh emerging from his lips.

"Looks like you're learning a thing or two from Quinn, twerp!" Bowie punched him on the upper arm, in a mostly light-hearted gesture. "You went through the freakin' pig sties, didn't you? No wonder you smell like crap."

"You see," Luka began, rebounding quickly with a smirk and a light tap of his own. "I figured a smelly winner was better than a clean loser." In his opinion, taking the short cut through the pig enclosure had been a stroke of brilliance. He knew that his siblings wouldn't dare consider it - the enclosure was so full of dirt and debris that they wouldn't dare enter it, not for a thousand gold pieces. Bowie backed up a step, nose wrinkling at the less than distasteful smell and simply shook his head, evidently lost for words. He looked up at the sky, at the unlucky crows that had disgruntledly dispersed in hopes of finding breakfast elsewhere. Bowie's brow creased and his light expression faded into concern, as if remembering the true reason he had pulled his brother aside.

"I heard that Benji was going through some stuff. I know how close you two are. Is everything alright?" Bowie asked tentatively. Luka sighed. Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius always appeared to be having some kind of dire crisis and throwing Luka's life upside-down often seemed to be an unfortunate side effect. Especially lately. But Benji was his best friend, and Luka knew no matter the turmoil it would cause, he would always be there for him.

Deciding to sway the conversation to his advantage, Luka posed the question he'd been wondering how to ask the entire morning. "I was actually going to visit the palace today, to see how he was coping," Luka began carefully, his statement a veiled request. Of those in Perranth their estate was the largest. Though a small army of people seemed to reside there, it required constant attention and care. The siblings' boundless energy and fierce loyalty to their home made for a tightly run-ship, but it was a delicate balance and the week long absences Luka had started to favor would make it a difficult task to maintain. Especially so since Lorcan, their father, was currently on a business trip to Adarlan. Without Aelin's assistance to present his latest tampon prototype he could be there for weeks. 

A hundred years after the great war and his mother's passing, for some unfathomable reason his father decided that the best use of immortality was to open a pad and tampon company. 

"Go," Bowie said resolutely, eyes creasing in brotherly reassurance. Luka nodded gratefully, a strand of dark hair falling across his forehead. Bowie was strict, but he was almost always fair. Hesitantly, he broached the subject again.

"I likely won't be home for a few days, can you explain my predicament to Dad?" Bowie's eyes narrowed in question, but he nodded nonetheless. Luka released a breath, nodding back. He could have the entire day to deal with Benji - to wade through his over-dramatized plight and hopefully repair his confidence. And perhaps, with any luck that would leave just enough time spare for-

"Just.. Stay safe," Bowie requested, before raising a muscled hand to Luka's shoulder. "I believe that you can handle yourself, but remember. Stay alert." That Bowie was allowing him to travel the long road from Perranth to Orynth, when his father was absent, was a testament to the trust between them.

"Of course," Luka replied guiltily, "but I need to go, you know the road to the palace is long." Bowie simply nodded, as if to tell him he was blabbering. Luka received the message. "I'll be back in four days!" he yelled, before he turned, spinning on his heel with ethereal grace and sprinting off towards the stables with renewed vigour. The light of the sun on his face momentarily disguised his uncertainty. The promise had rolled off his lips effortlessly, and he prayed that he could keep it. It wouldn't take long to quickly saddle one of the manor's horses, gather his supplies, and set off. He'd head to the palace library - a small blush appeared on his cheeks - only days prior he'd received a letter from Asterin informing him she would be studying there for the week. A small goofy grin emerged on his face. The prosperous, lively city of Orynth awaited him.


	3. Quinn Ashryver

The blossoms arrived first, coating the trees like cake frosting in delicious creams and pinks. The petals burst like fire crackers from the branches, with some tips still wound in tight buds. Great oak trees stretched out to reach for the warmth of the spring sun now that they were released from the clutches of winter. Their overhanging boughs provided dappled shade for the patches of daisies poking through the overgrown fields. Sunlight glistened, reflecting scintillating rainbows upon the thousands of morning dew drops caught within spider webs. A soft breeze flowed down past the distant palace. Finer than silk, smoother than water, it sung through the trees, sending the birds scattering in playful updrafts. It twirled gently between petals, carrying the scent of each flower it passed. It danced like a playful child from paddock to paddock, traveling up to the stables where it tickled the noses of sprightly foals and flicked the majestic tails of shining stallions.  
  
It twisted around the polished wooden fences bordering the stables most of which the Queen of Terrasen had had rebuilt in all of its former glory. What was once walls of rotting, wooden planks which had sent shafts of light streaming through its jagged edges was now a structure that rivalled children's wildest dreams. Great spires of oak split the rolling landscape, like trees bowing together they curved in great arches to form the barn's vaulted ceiling. A small window accompanied each stall and many stable hands could be seen with buckets of water vainly attempting to wipe the smears of dirt off the glass panes.  
It was quite a sight to behold. Even more so when shouts began ringing through the entrance paddock, rippling off the algae lined water troughs. It sent birds flapping, their wings stark against the infinite blue sky where they now circled, watching the field mice scurrying through the waving maize.  
A draft horse thundered through the open stable gate steered by an unruly girl. Her laughter rippled through the morning like summer rain, a lilting melody, rising and falling with the breeze and melding with the birdsong that had begun again with renewed vigour in her tumultuous presence.  
Quinn Ashryver's auburn hair writhed around her, tangling with her horses bushy mane as she clumsily turned in her saddle, training cornflower eyes on the tragic scene behind her. Three stable-hands dressed in riding leathers pathetically stumbled after her, tripping down the bramble filled slopes overgrown with cow parsley, nettles and cowslips which trumpeted the music of spring. Early morning dew flicked up their legs, dampening their shins as they sprinted after her like their jobs depended on it. Her eyes twinkled mirthfully, because they sure as hell did. Her hand clenched around the two sets of sweaty leather reins, one for her draft horse Atlas, and the other for the reason these imbeciles were chasing her. On the end of the tan lead cantered one of Aelin's prized Asterion horses, it's ebony coat shimmering with a quite obvious majesty in the morning sun.  
  
She was surprised at how easily she'd been able to slip unnoticed through the ambling stable yard. She hadn't even had to put in that much effort into sneaking past the stable hands. They were hilariously bad at their job, but she supposed they were redeeming themselves with the drastic effort they were putting into chasing her. She urged Atlas forward, and upon hearing his great hooves pick up pace, whistled sharply to the Asterion horse behind her. It tossed its charcoal mane, letting out a loud whinny before falling into step alongside Atlas. They rushed through the fields, leaving a trail of squashed cowslips and crushed grass in their wake. She turned slightly to check whether she was still gaining ground, but quickly whipped her freckled face around with a scowl. The stable hands seemed to have stamina and were indeed keeping up with her. Although the youngest, who looked around eighteen, was panting heavily when he caught her eye. He glared at her as best he could before flipping his middle finger up. A s***-eating grin appeared on Quinn's face. Oh, now it was on - it was time to show these slow pokes exactly who they were dealing with.  
  
She flipped one leg over till she was positioned side saddle, then quickly threw her other leg back over the worn leather saddle. She lurched forward dangerously, flailing an arm in the air but still somehow managing to keep her balance. She looked towards the stable hands who seemed to be enjoying the new view of her stunning face as much as she was now enjoying staring at Atlas's ass. Backwards riding, now this was an experience. At least they were so puffed that they couldn't even yell at her and she doubted they would be able to alert Aelin quickly enough for her to do it instead.  
  
They continued trotting through the fields, Atlas maintained a smooth bumping rhythm that lulled Quinn into a sense of security, solidifying her assurance in victory. She inhaled turning her head slightly to glimpse the castle coming closer and closer with every step Atlas took. She reached a hand out to adjust the bridle and Atlas whinnied nervously. Surprised she tried to turn back round fully to see what the problem was but one of her feet seemed to be caught in a stirrup. She sighed and patted Atlas' smooth rump, hoping to comfort him to whatever seemed to be the problem. In fact, if she thought about it, the stable hands did seem to be looking quite concerned. If not for her safety, but for the safety of the Asterion horse. 

She knew what was happening as soon as she felt twigs claw at her hair and her ass leave the safety of the saddle. Atlas had leapt over and through the blossom trees bordering the fields surrounding the castle. Breath harrumphed out of her as a branch snapped past her back. The stable hands had taken the gate on the other side of the field in a failed attempt at recovering some decorum. They gaped at her, too tired to run anymore.  
  
Goddamn, if she had known they would give up if she jumped through some trees she would have done it way earlier. She tried to free her leg again, taunt muscles twinging. It sure would have saved her some trouble. Even with her less than ideal position she continued to smile, hoping they thought she had intended for this to happen. A small laugh escaped her lips again. Jokes on them, this horse wasn't even for her. She bounced up and down as Atlas continued towards the palace, towards the tall library windows. Her hair, Atlas's bridle and the Asterion horse who had followed Atlas were covered in a variety of blossoms, pink, blue, green, yellow. They surely were a sight to behold. She heard a devilish laugh echo from behind her and she grinned, shaking her head. By the Gods, Asterin would never let her hear the end of this.


	4. Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard, Part 1

Swirling motes of dust glinted in and out of the reflected sunlight, a hazy disco ball dancing down to the floor. The skylight peaked above the ancient room, the trembling remains rebuilt with the same love and thirst for knowledge that had ignited its fierce power in the beginning. The crystalline shimmer of the geometric cut made the upward view a constant revolving sunbeam, the bright light as fierce as that of the resident within. The hazy swirl of dust picked out the heavy tomes that graced the uppermost curve of the room. It curled down the layers and levels of light-quartzite floors, a pattern that spiraled in and out of shelves upon shelves of crisp pages, written and bound to hold the knowledge of thousands: a world of many faces cradled within a golden haven. Enchanters of their own brand, a magic, simple and pure, ignited within storytelling. A question and an answer, if only one bothered to look.  
  
Books of all ages, some far more ancient than the room itself, some an endearing if not crude collection of more modern scope. The titles looped and curled, positioned on a slight lean for the enchanting effect of one having to tilt their head in order to read them: romance, history, science. And burrowed beneath the heavy shelves were arched windows that let in both light and nature itself. Clear cut glass, swung open to welcome in the birdsong and over-animated ivy that curled down the frames. The alcoves of light illuminated titles with halos of yellowing tones and curving shadows.  
  
The bottom level was the belly of the beast, sprawling twice as wide as the towering floors above and welcoming visitors to become lost in the darkening shelves. The skylight above was a swirling beacon of light above which called such wayward visitors home, to the spread of cushions and couches in the foyer below. The books' golden tones and blue and green highlights broke the barrier of the rooms' walls, bringing the outside into the elegant chamber with swirling clouds and leaves patterned, stitched or painted upon the furniture.  
  
Wreathing the space, between the shelves and the nook, were two armchairs. They were luxurious in design and craft, with velvet and suede overlay and cushions of embroidery and weave. The first starred a cushion embroided with a burning stag and the second bore the Whitehorn family crest, indicating whose spots these seats were. The latter cushion lay on the floor in disregard and the chair was instead occupied by a lean figure lounging within its velvet embrace. The scent of cedar, old parchment and steel emanated from their silent and still form. Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard's long legs were slung over one arm, ivory hair dripping down the other, just brushing the floor. The particular volume she held was thick with bindings and thinned by age. Dust motes gathered to the title "The Southern Continent" like moth to a flame, settling on its worn leather.

It lay there still for only a moment before the tangy smell of drooping pines rushed in from the towering bay windows opposite the chair. Like the breath of an enormous wyvern it picked up the telltale dust and swept out again. The lulling scent swooped round the room and rustled her long hair. An eye of gold, like spun silk, glinted in the light, speaking of a reckoning power beneath. Her molten eye glittered forebodingly but her serene pose betrayed no threat. She adjusted her position, lithe muscles shifting as a deep sigh exhaled from her nose. The book was informative, she had to give it that. But it was so goddamn dry! It was almost as if the Ancient History authors were trying to make her fall asleep. She dramatically flopped back in Rowan's chair. The enchanting scene that lit the window nearest was beckoning, the landscape adorned by fields of cowslips and walls of blossom trees. She refocused, determined to stay strong and remain focused on the minuscule words, and begrudgingly she let herself be lulled back into her previous musings.  
  
As she turned the last drooping page of the book, the mood, which had settled into that of elegant repose and slumbering power, began to change. A shift in the wind brought a more urgent and erratic air, a whiff of chaos blended with burnt orange and chicory. She sniffed, stirring again. Her eyes sharpened as a cloud passed over the sparkling glass. The room fell into a momentary eclipse, shadows emerging with lengthening greed. They clawed up the spines of the books, whipping the wind into chilly gusts that whispered through the shelves. The eerie change was not lost on Asterin and as she began to emerge from her seat, head tilting to the skylight above, her other eye was revealed. It shimmered a piercing blue, sharpening with threatening depths of turquoise and indigo as the darkening climate encircled her form. 

The flash from dark to light revealed the steel hints of weaponry, a reflection of the wielder, shrouded by Asterin's figure. From her leather boots to her pointed ears she basked like a predator in both the shadow and light. Her wine red cloak pooled behind her as she sauntered across the room and propped the book high on the shelf nearest to the bay window. She turned and studied the landscape, flowers had just begun to bloom on the hills, chrysanthemums. She smirked. How quaint. A hummingbird fluttered at the edge of her vision and she refocused her eyes on the beautiful blossom trees that surrounded the eastern side of the castle, bordering the library. Unfortunately that view didn't stay the same for long as barely a second after her first glance she got the pleasure of witnessing one of the trees be truly and utterly destroyed by a cantering draft horse. 

A fiery figure smelling of chicory and horse tack barreled for her. Or at least her horse barreled for Asterin with her friends wild hair a flaming mess as she rode backwards towards the library shrouded in an assortment of twigs, leaves and flowers. She quickly whipped her eyes to the farther end of the field, noticing three flailing stable hands grappling for the latch of the inner castle ground's fence. Desperately trying to stop Quinn from making away with one of the most sought after treasures in the kingdom. 

Atlas stopped underneath the window, letting out a gentle whicker as he recognised her. An excited shriek left Asterin's mouth as she spied her friend's most intriguing companion. A prized Asterion horse stood beside Atlas, its ink black coat roughed with twigs and a motley array of trampled petals and leaves. Her eyes lit with excited mischief and she called down to the red-haired fae below, genuine but teasing respect in her tone: "I thought there was no way you would do it." 

"You seriously thought I wouldn't?" the girl below her scoffed incredulously. Quinn flicked her frizzy hair and reached down unbuckling a twisted stirrup, she freed herself and wobbled unsteadily atop Atlas before gripping the Asterion horse's reins and turning her face up to the window.

"Oh, my Queenliness, I have come from afar to offer you this fine steed as a show of my greatest devotion." She took a mocking bow upon Atlas' rump, inclining her head and offering the reigns of the Asterion horse to Asterin. 

Asterin swooned exaggeratively, and said in a simpering voice: "My loyal subject, you have secured for me a great prize, however, shall I repay your gracious bravery, your insurmountable courage, your unwavering loyalty…" She held her hand to her forehead, tilting her head back in mock wonderment. Asterin's eyes twinkled and Quinn snorted and as they locked eyes again, the regal façade slowly crumbled. Both girls burst out laughing. Asterin snorted hugging her stomach. Quinn tipped her head back in raucous joy, the loud sound startled Atlas who shuffled his hooves in a nervous step. The movement upset the vague semblance of balance Quinn had and she slipped further down her steeds' flank. Gripping the reigns in an effort to steady herself, she accidentally wrenched her head forward, causing herself to slip off the back of Atlas while in the process performing one of the least graceful somersaults Asterin had ever seen.

Asterin leapt from the window frame, and created an elegant, almost unnoticeable puff of wind to cushion her two-story drop. As she fell, she executed a perfect double summersault before landing bareback on her Asterion horse. She grinned at Quinn "was this what you were trying to do." Quinn scoffed, rolling her eyes at Asterin's antiques.  
Asterin petted the withers of her newly claimed steed as it bucked in reflex to her startling presence. She brushed her fingers through it's tangled mane, and picking out a few flowers she leaned down and whispered the calming words her mother had taught her. They worked on any beast, wyvern, horse or ruk. As she absentmindedly cleaned the horses' mane she peeked over to see how her tousled friend was faring. Quinn had managed to right herself on her horse, and her eyes were sparkling with a mischievous quip she had devised through her struggles. Quinn opened her mouth only for words that were not her own to echo across the field. 

"Get back here!"


	5. Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard, Part 2

Quinn looked behind her and shrugged.

"I really thought they would had given up," she said in surprise. She turned and pouted at Asterin, who was frowning, weighing up the odds. 

"Well, now, my dear, I think it's time for a little entertainment," Asterin finally said, hoisting herself to a standing position on the Asterion horse. A mischievous smile graced her features as she held her fist out to her friend. "Live free," she said.

"Die free," Quinn recited in turn, her own smile growing at the steely sentiment. She held out her fist and Asterin winked at her, bumping Quinn's fist with her own. They both withdrew, finding defensive stances. Twin smirks of mirth grew on their faces. Those poor men wouldn't know what hit them. 

"That horse belongs to the Queen," panted one of the stable hands, "you must return it at once." Asterin pounced on those words and tossed her head from the stable hand to Quinn, feigned horror clear on her features.

"You gave me the Queen's horse!" she cried in indignation, flinging an accusatory finger in Quinn's direction. She turned, looking at the stable hands, imploringly wringing her hands in betrayal. She looked down at her steed and back up at the men through her lashes with a look of carefully placed fragility. They softened, slightly. "Guards!" Asterin cried, as if they could brag such a high station, "arrest her." 

"You dare to impute my honor!" Quinn retorted, beginning to lead Atlas in a slow circle around Asterin. "Why, she was the one who asked me to steal it. Arrest her!" Quinn looked to the stable hands and at the same time gestured erratically at Asterin. Asterin put an offended hand over her heart.

"How dare you accuse I, a royal princess, of such traitorous behaviour. I would never dream of it." She continued looking through her lashes at the stable hands and they hesitated further. Seeing Asterin's effect on the men, Quinn lead Atlas in front of Asterin to block her view of the now captivated crowd.

"Don't listen to her, she tricked all of you into chasing me, when she just wanted the horse for herself!" Her arguments were building with her excitement. Her confidence grew, she reached out, closing the gap between the two horses to push Asterin in barely restrained anger. Asterin's eyes flared.

"Oh! Now I'm the thief!" Asterin reached for Quinn's shirtfront, lifting her up slightly. A small flash of steel glinted, but was gone so quickly it was almost as though it was never there.

"You better give that horse back, or I'll--" Quinn whipped out a dagger she had not possessed a moment ago, to gasps from the men.  
"En garde!"

"En garde yourself. I will give you the honor of a quick, and painless, death." Asterin smiled, and produced a much longer, though still lithe, rapier. Without taking her eyes from Quinn, she clicked to the Asterion horse to begin a duel circle, the girls positioning themselves lightly at the base of their horse's spines. The stable hands had stilled, an expectant crowd to the elegant entertainment, distracted for a moment from their true goal. Asterin looked down at her weapon and frowned. "We must fight fairly," she boisterously acknowledged, tipping her head graciously to Quinn and swapping out the rapier for an equally sized dagger that had been concealed beneath the layers of her flowy clothes. 

As they circled inwards their daggers clashed and the horses kept the tight circle, baring their teeth at each other in fearsome war cry. Asterin leaned in and smiled, raising her voice despite Quinn's proximity for the benefit of the stable hands. 

"Any last words?" she jested.

"I will cut you to ribbons."

The horses lurched apart.

"Such mediocrity…" Asterin pouted doing a spin on her horse, flicking up her dagger before quickly catching it and baring the sharp tip at her friend. "Let your weapon do the talking." Quinn smiled, running up her horse's back to reach Asterin's dagger and knocking it playfully. She then leant backward, doing a backward walkover, to regain her previous position. Her foot slipped slightly, almost unnoticeable to the human eye, and although Asterin's eyes narrowed at the opportunity she didn't push her friend off Atlas. Quinn recovered quickly.

"I will," she grinned, "it will be loquacious to a fault."

"Take that, you villain!" Asterin yelled, plunging into a deliberately sloppy dive for Quinn's side. Quinn twirled easily out of the way. 

The tight circle the horses had steadily maintained broke apart, and the girls began to fight with tactics and skill they had hidden in their previously playful swings. Quinn leapt from Atlas onto the ivy growing up the tower and climbed one-handed as Asterin slashed blow after blow at her from below.

"You fight like your mother," Quinn mocked, maintaining an easy laugh despite her straining limbs. Asterin only laughed, relaxed in her posture upon the Asterion horse, with a quick glance assuring her that the men had not moved since the fight had broke out. 

"Why, my mother trained yours. That is a compliment." She gestured with grandeur into a near sweeping bow, before peeking her head up and grinning.

"Bastard!"

"Heathen!" 

Each blow landed with a curse as Quinn attempted to scale out of Asterin's reach, holding on with one arm and reaching down with her weapon in the other to protect her loose, dangling legs. Asterin sliced the greenery next to Quinn and she slipped, plunging down. Asterin quickly dived out of the way, her horse instinctively leading her back. The momentary space was closed as Atlas again jumped in, securing Quinn who landed on his back. She was barely managing to stay on her horse and keep ahold of the dagger as Asterin advanced with renewed vigor.

"Not the face!" she managed to mutter in warning to her friend, momentary worry crossing her face. Asterin gave a slight nod, and, goaded by the now captivated crowd of stable hands, twisted her dagger. The fast wrist motion sent Quinn's own sailing to the ground. The crowd cheered as Asterin held Quinn, defeated at knife point. Quinn stood as Asterin looked to their audience and bowed.   
She moved the Asterion horse in front of her friend as a mock podium and waved boisterously.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we have decided it's a draw," Asterin said. The clapping dulled. Quinn peaked out from behind, waving in a mock salute. 

"Thank you all for coming, it's been great," Quinn said, before bolting through the clear field the girls had maneuvered into during their fight, now positioned in an almost too perfect escape route.

"Au revoir" Asterin nodded at them, sheathing her dagger. She jumped down onto the Asterion horse's back, and, kicking its flanks urgently. Both girls and their horses galloped towards the main courtyard at the other corner of the palace.   
Asterin caught up to Quinn, who had repositioned herself once again to sit backwards on her horse. 

"Congratulations," she said with a careless smile and a flick of her wrist. 

"No, you" Asterin gave a brief congratulatory applause with the casual superiority that came with her royal title.   
"That was good." The girls exchanged compliments, pointing out their highlights:  
"…the genius of climbing the ivy…"   
"…that nifty little knife throwing trick definitely payed off…"   
"…to ribbons, that was genius!" 

They spoke over one another in mock attempts at the royal expression of aloof superiority.   
"Yes, very good," Quinn kept repeating, overly nonchalant in her attempt at Asterin's elegant composure, despite her awkward position and ragged appearance. 

The girls nodded at each other once more, picking up the pace as they rounded the final corner. They nearly ran into another figure on horseback, and their own steeds bucked instinctively, sending the girls into alert defense and their casual jests vanishing instantly. Though Quinn was still facing the wrong way and had practically face-planted she attempted to be of some use by shouting out: "Who's there?".  
Asterin just rolled her eyes, sheathing her dagger and smiling exasperatedly at the familiar soft, brown haired boy before her.   
Luke stalled abruptly in his journey to the library, coming to a smooth stop in front of her. His expression instantly lit up as he recognised the two girls and his eyes lingered inquisitively on Quinn's leaf-strewn back before settling on Asterin. She noticed he seemed to match Quinn's flowery appearance, although his outfit was much more intentional, and he held a smattering of flowers carefully in his right hand. She smirked at the primroses, still looking fresh despite, she suspected, having travelled from Perranth. And with barely veiled laughter noted the sparse array of cowslips looked rather flattened. She could only guess why. 

She reached over to Quinn, pulling the leftover flowers from her roughened outfit before quickly moving to retrieve the broken blooms she had teased out of the Asterion horse's mane earlier. She swept her now plentiful, if broken, bouquet towards Luka as he dismounted and held out his own rather awkwardly to her.   
He blushed at her offering, and Quinn burst out laughing behind them. Asterin smiled demurely and accepted his gift, nearly dropping her loose bunch as they exchanged the variation of fresh and flattened blossoms.   
After Quinn had finally calmed herself and Luka had somewhat regained his composure, he looked up at the horse Asterin was seated upon. A grin as mischievous as Quinn's own was splayed across his features as he took in the grand beast. He locked eyes with her, raising his left eyebrow in curiosity.   
"Dare I ask?"  
Quinn, keen not to lose her hard earned credit, began coughing rather impressively in the background, earning a loose grin from Asterin.  
"A future queen must ride in style," was Asterin's only response and Luka turned rather demandingly to Quinn for a more informative answer.   
"He needed to get some fresh air," Quinn shrugged innocently, nudging her horse forward so she could pat his speckled mare.   
"Uh huh, because he totally wasn't already in an outdoor paddock." Luka reached up and flicked her hand away in mock rebuke.  
"I think the term you're looking for is caged cruelty," Quinn corrected, and Luka rolled his eyes before finally mounting his horse, careful of the squashed flowers he still held delicately in his hand. 

"Now that," he looked her squarely in the eye, "is some of the biggest bulls*** I've heard from you in a long time and you were drunk and rambling, what, like, a week ago." He sighed in near exasperation at his friend's now doe-eyed expression, and, giving up, gave Asterin a side-long glance. "You dared her, didn't you?" Asterin clicked to her horse and the group began to canter to the central courtyard. She looked back just in time to smirk at Luka

"She's never backed down from a dare."

He glared at her and set his horse to catch up. "One day you are going to get in some serious trouble," he said warily. Asterin looked down at her joke of a bouquet that he still held, carefully arranged. Her gaze made Luka's ears go pink and his confidence vanished. 

"Like you won't always be there to bail us out of there." She was dancing on a thin wire, and his expression became a little vulnerable as his gaze dropped to the flowers as well. She bit her tongue, but then again, she had always walked this particular tightrope. Quinn caught up, smiling with near malice, as if her late arrival had been anything but intentional. Attempting to reign the conversation back, Asterin looked towards her two friends, a protective tone coating her voice. "That reminds me of someone who I'm pretty sure might need some assistance bailing out himself."

Luka's gaze shot up and his unreadable expression quickly vanished replaced by alert intent. He looked to Asterin, and a small, grateful smile graced his features before he turned and raced ahead. In his wake, Quinn soared past lounging on Atlas, winking at Asterin. Asterin bristled at her friend's suggestive look. 

She closed her eyes to breathe in the warm spring air and nearly choked on the ashen scent of acrid and burning wood. Asterin blinked, her eyes open, alarmed. She found herself far from the calm, warm fields of Terresan and instead in an unfamiliar, dark, wintery forest. She shivered, glancing around in confused haste to survey the land around her. She seemed to be looking into some sort of clearing. She shook her head. At the center stood a tall boy beneath an abyssal hole. What was going on? An intense fear writhed, grasping her like a snake hooking onto its pray, strangling her. She tried to push it aside, confused. She wasn't scared but the second she heard a strangled scream erupt from the boy, she knew it wasn't her fear. It was his. Already the scene began to fade like sands through her fingers, slipping out of her mind as quickly as it came. She desperately tried to hold on, to see more but the eerie scene was soon lost to her subconscious. 

She felt as if she had been dropped. Her head ducked and plunged into coarse hair and warm beating rhythm. She buried her wet face into her horse's mane, stilling herself to calm her breathing. She tried to recall the image of the figure, a boy?

She looked up in confusion, breathing once again, even only to spy the crushed flowers in her hands, ruined as she clenched them with fear. She took a shaky laugh and glimpsed the receding figures of her friends. As she watched them she felt her expression morph again into a hopeful smile, dismissing the already blurry scene from her mind she started forward on her horse to catch them up. 

No matter the trouble, with her friends around, what was there to fear?


	6. Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius

Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius trudged into the palace dining room, his eyes still squinted with sleep and golden locks tousled. Warily, he glanced at the massive clock located on the far wall of the room: 7 o'clock. He sighed, utterly perplexed at why he'd decided to rise at such an ungodly hour.  
  
Although the palace was often renowned for its stunning architecture, the palace dining room was relatively simple in its design. Red and gold-accentuated walls stretched high to the ceiling, bedecked with portraits of various rulers who had come before his mother, Aelin. Morning light seeped through a single, wide window on the wall directly across from him, casting a warm glow on his fine features and providing a prime view of the courtyards' centre.  
  
One, fatigued step after the other, Benji slowly approached the middle of the room and the massive, oak dining table centered there. The rest of his family were already settled at the table, treating themselves to a kings' breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. The strong, greasy smell of bacon drifted towards him, causing his stomach to grumble in anticipation.  
  
As he approached his seat, he examined the three other Whitethorn-Galathynius’ already seated at the unnecessarily-large table. At the head sat his mother, Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius. Like Benji's, Aelin’s hair was golden and unbound – as pure and beautiful as the morning light. Her stomach was large and swollen, speaking of an ongoing pregnancy which annoyed her to no end. Having to 'rest' and 'relax' so that she did not disturb the precious baby in her womb had caused her to become skittish, and a gigantic pain in Benji's ass. As her bright, turquoise eyes locked upon his own, a small smirk emerged upon her beautiful, delicate face. Benji gave a small, tired smile back, knowing that if he didn’t she would indeed let him be dragged through the dust during his sparring sessions later that day.

Beside his mother sat his white-haired father, Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius. Rowan inclined his head in good morning, and a grin emerged on Benji’s tanned face; his father was likely the person he respected most in his life. The adoring love for he had for his wife and absolute determination to make sure his kids would grow up to be remembered and honorable had given Benji a means to impress and his rare praise was worth the world. 

Slowly, he pulled a heavy, oaken chair out from the table and took a seat beside the last member of the family, his sister. He turned his amber eyes upon Bryn Whitethorn-Galathynius, annoyance emerging on his features as he regarded her perfect, curly ashen hair and freshly pressed tunic. Of course, no matter the hour, Bryn looked perfect. 

At age nineteen, his sister was only a year older than him, and, of course, as she never let him forget, the rightful heir of Terresan. Although his mother and father made an effort to spend as much time as possible with both of them, somehow, Bryn always ended up favoured – the one that his parents seemed to regard as more ‘important’. Her pointed blue eyes held a look of feigned innocence as she regarded the annoyance upon his face.

“Did you sleep alright?" She inquired pointedly, "You look like a Ruk dragged you through the mud,” she said in a feigned whisper, chuckling at his expense. A small smile fought its way from Aelin’s lips as she looked between the drastic difference in appearances of her two children. His father simply shook his head . 

“I’m fine,” Benji snapped. “And don’t make fun of me,” he added angrily, “It’s early in the morning, what do you expect?”

“We’ve already been up for two hours, running errands and organising meetings,” Aelin accentuated, returning to her meal, “you have no reason to be so rude when we’ve been running this kingdom while you sleep.” She brought her silver fork to her plate, precisely stabbing a slice of honey-bacon and lifting it to her mouth. “Besides,” she mumbled between chews, “you’ll have to start rising earlier soon, the holidays are almost over. If you’re to keep up with your training schedule, you’ll have to wake up at least at five.” She reached for the mug resting beside her plate, and took a large draft of the steaming, brown liquid inside. Benji wrinkled his nose in distaste as the thick, organic smell of coffee drifted towards him. 

“I know, so why don’t you let me rest in peace while I have the chance?” he retorted, the pinch between his eyebrows foreshadowing a headache already. Piling eggs, bacon, and a large heaping of beans onto his plate, he began to eat with the ferocity of a lion – or, more fittingly, a leopard. 

The room was silent but for the clinking of silver cutlery. The great arched windows that lined the room like pillars had all been shut after his mum had complained for a week straight about the 'chilling breeze'. Benji hoped she never had another child, her moods were cramping his style. His hair fell flat without the fresh breeze and he missed the smell of coming spring and the cherry sounds of morning birdsong. Taking a quick glance up from his plate he ignored his sisters not so subtle look of disapproval. His gaze moved up to the arc that peaked his mothers chair. The symbol of a white stag was engraved there, haloed by a ring of flames and crown. Flicking his eyes downward he loosed a breath swallowing. He could see his parents were finishing up their meals.

“So,” Benji began taking confidence from his families crest. He forced his voice into calmness, deciding he’d rather not like to fight so early in the morning, “When’s the rehearsal for the Thirteen’s commemoration? You wanted me to speak this year, right?” Benji had been awaiting the Thirteen’s commemoration for months – it was the first time that his parents had decided to let him, not Bryn, take responsibility for a major event occurring in the kingdom. For once, they were going to let him stand at the altar, and speak of the brave, tragic sacrifice twelve witches had made only fifty years ago. 

“Oh,” Aelin began uncomfortably, “BJ, I know how much you were looking forward to this, but we think it might be a better idea if Bryn presents.” Aelin attempted to meet his eyes, guilt apparent on her features. Desperately, she glanced sideways towards Rowan, who was staring resolutely forward, avoiding her gaze. It was apparent that his father did not approve of his mother’s decision. Bryn shot him a simpering smile and simply continued eating beside him, a golden buttered slice of toast dripping delicately from her hand.

“But,” Benji began in disbelief, his forehead creased, “you promised. You swore that I’d finally get a chance to present the ceremony.” He couldn’t believe it. Once again, his parents had decided that Bryn, the beautiful, intelligent, wonderful Bryn, would be better suited than himself. It didn’t matter that his father disagreed, because he evidently wasn’t going to defend him. Benji shook his head again, golden locks swaying.

"Benji, it's ok, really." Bryn's tone mimicked motherly care. "Don't worry, it'll be better this way." She looked at him, her eyes widening with sincerity, as she patted his arm. "I took the liberty to go over your plans…"

Benji was shocked at the blatantly horrifying confession. His notes had been carefully placed in a discrete shelf in his room, not only was she mocking him with her caring gestures but now she was just throwing his privacy square out the window. He could feel his anger boiling, a trickling stream building.

"…and when I saw your decoration suggestions, well, I was near mortified. Black drapes! Were you trying to elude to the dark Yielding's that brought so much sadness to the witches. To those who we are seeking to honor. And your menu ideas. Oh Wyrd! Anything from the sea is a constant reminder of Doranelle and the battles…" Bryn took a breath, Benji suspected because her overemotional performance was so over-exaggerated she was losing her original point. However, she managed to instead looked distraught and almost hurt by his hypothetical plans. 

"That's no--"

"And, well, then of course, I had to inform Mother."

"Bryn," Aelin cautioned.

"It was impossible for such plans to precede any further--" 

"Bryn." 

"--and I only have your best interests at hea-- " Bryn spoke over Benji's interjection and her mothers warnings. On a roll. Finally having remembered her point, no doubt, he growled to himself. The thin stream of his power was roaring now. It was building a particular buzzing in his ears and drowning out his sisters taunts, smoke wreathed round his clenched hands hidden by the white table cloth. He watched as her mouth moved, her movements repulsively excessive, hands gesturing 'empathetically'. But, silenced, without her constant jabs his focus instead went to her eyes. He almost smiled, a more feral, primordial instinct. He had found his answer. For there he saw her eyes; flicking to his every few seconds, cold, calculating and as she noticed his gaze she turned and looked at him directly, her face momentarily shielded from her parents by a curtain of her hair and she smiled. It was not a kind smile, and did not reach her eyes; from it, he shrank.

"Benji?" 

“I can’t believe this,” he stood up from the table, his chair screeching against the polished floors, his voice growing in volume. He looked at his mother, his eyes flashing at the hesitant question still frozen on her lips. 

“You say that you love Bryn and I equally, but whenever something important comes up, you always, always choose her over me, you don’t –” 

Benji paused, absurdly distracted. In the corner of his vision, through the great window before him, he glimpsed the figures of three, lean teenagers, bouncing in and out of the picturesque window frame. Rising on his tiptoes he saw they were… doing handstands on horses? Warily, he watched Quinn attempt the feat. She seemed to have mastered the initial placement and was now moving to jump from her horse to land feet first on Asterin's horse? He held his breath in sheer bewilderment, only to watch her tumble to the ground violently with a sudden thump he could swear he felt as he stood in the dining room, 200 metres away. Benji grimaced, wincing. "By the Wryd…" Were they trying to kill themselves?

“Benji,” Rowan asked slowly, befuddled by his sudden silence, “are you alright?”

“What?” Benji snapped, his tawny eyes still fixed on the three, wild figures outside. A flash of light, and ivory hair appeared, along with two long leather-clad legs. Did Asterin just do a cartwheel? A freakin’ cartwheel? Slowly, he brought his eyes back to his father, whose brow was furrowed in concern, his dark eyes filled with confusion. 

"I--" A momentary blur of a lean, tanned boy appeared, attempting to recline lazily in mid-air and wave in the dining room window's direction. His direction. It left Benji speechless. How did Luka manage to get that high in the air? Unless, the girls threw hi-- 

"Benji?" His mother repeated, her colder tone vanishing in concern as she rose from the table to walk towards him, her head inclining to follow his gaze. 

"Wait!" Benji shouted, his voice breaking in his desperate plea. His mother could not see the antics going on right behind her pregnant figure.

“I’m fine,” Benji said distractedly, as he watched Asterin fully appear in the frame, similar to Luka except in a full split jump. He was momentarily tempted to ask his mother to turn around, just to be sure he wasn't going insane. 

Bringing a hand to his forehead he rubbed visciously at his eyes. "I'm fine," he repeated. His mother, father and sister stilled by his jumping moods, watching him keenly. Unable to withstand their judgmental gazes, Benji moved away from the large table, sliding his chair back in carelessly, earning another sickening screech. His mother abandoned the window and started towards him, maternal concern entirely focused upon him. He considered the warmth of her embrace, her attentio--

"Mother, I think we should continue our planning for the ceremony itself in two days time. I need to finalize the order in which the speeches will follow…" Bryn slinked out of her chair like a fox and slid in front of his mother, blocking her gaze, vying for her attention. 

Benji waited, a little flame of hope, that, maybe, this time she would choose him. 

Aelin met Bryn's eyes. It was a slice to Benji's heart. A crystal cut dismissal. 

“I'm not hungry,” he said abruptly, avoiding his parent's worried faces. He looked again past his hesitating mother to the acrobatic entertainment from the paddock below. He saw the legs of Quinn, once again attempting the jump. His father began to say something, but he quickly broke him off. “Just... don’t, I need time to think.” He briskly exited the dining hall, making up his mind. 

He needed to be far away from his family - a place where he could clear his head, gain some perspective. He ran through the palace's corridors, down the foyer's staircase and out through the main door into the courtyard. He looked around desperately, trying to locate the figures he had glimpsed just moments earlier. 

The monumental fountain in the centre of the courtyard trickled, echoing off the sandstone walls. He slowly moved forward, blinking dazedly in the bright light, still not fully awake. He took a step and padded grass greeted his bare feet, emerging with a comforting softness. At the far corner, in the shade of the fountain, stood his three friends, out of sight, now, from the dining room window, but grinning at him devilishly, nonetheless. Quinn, in all her fiery glory, was still upon her horse. Asterin and Luka stood beside her, but quickly mounted their own horses expectantly as they saw him approach. He released a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief and exhaustion as he made his way towards them. Luka had a look of extreme concern on his face, his tanned forehead scrunched in worry.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, sensing Benji's sadness. Benji began to speak, but his breath caught in his throat. He simply shook his head, averting his golden eyes so that they would not see the tears pooling within them. Quinn, her grey eyes ablaze, looked like she was about to speak, but quickly halted when Asterin looked at her pointedly. 

"I think we should leave," Asterin said, her voice soft, but undercurrents of venom emerged as she looked towards the dining room window above. They all could imagine where Bryn sat, perfectly poised like a viper. Asterin's white hair haloed as she tilted it back towards Benji - it was a clear dismissal of his sister. Where his parents would turn to his sister, Asterin's focus was entirely on him. He took a calming breath at the security of his friends. They were like a wave of protection, washing over him. "Let's get away from here," she said softly. Asterin directed her steely gaze towards Luka, who nodded in response, clicking softly to his mare as he nudged her forward. He reached out an arm towards Benji, whose nose wrinkled at his friend's peculiar odour. He grasped his best friend's hand automatically, hoisting himself onto the thick, leather saddle.

"What’s with the smell?" he complained, and Luka laughed quietly as he turned back to face Benji in the saddle.

"Long story that involved a lot of eggs," was his only reply. 

"Well then, where to?" Benji asked inquisitively, his eyes already lighting up at the feeling of security he found in his friend's presence and embrace. 

"Isn't it obvious?" Quinn replied breathlessly, her flaming hair frenzied and full of flowers, not entirely explained by her recent acrobatics. They quickly glanced at each other, equally eager smiles emerging on all of their faces. Benji knew exactly where they planned to go, because it was the same place they went every time they needed to get away. With a quick jab into the inky flank of one of his mother's Asterion stallions, Friesian - another story to tell, Benji noted - Asterin shot off like a bullet towards the Staghorn mountains. Quinn quickly followed suit. 

"To the den, then," Luka confirmed with a short laugh as he watched Asterin fade into the distance. In preparation, Benji tightened his legs on the horse's flank and adjusted his stance, gripping Luka's waist, before hesitantly resting his chin on Lukas shoulder. 

"Whenever you're ready," Benji replied in what he hoped was an impatient enough tone to disguise his sudden breathlessness. Luka simply knocked his head against Benji's in brotherly affection glad to feel his friends spirits lifting before tightening the reigns.

"I'm always ready."


	7. Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius

The three horses ambled up the steep, rocky slopes of the Staghorn Mountains. Although it was now spring, the air near the mountains still held the last inclement of winter, with layers of frost lingering on the sweet-smelling wildflowers. They were barely a half hour ride away from the castle, but it felt like they had entered a completely different world: the scene was showered in white and grey, like a burst feather cushion. A biting, chill breeze swooped up the mountain slope, rattling the jagged mountain edges and ruffling the hair of the travelers as they scaled upwards, leaving the city behind them. Orynth sprawled out like a painting, opal-clad buildings interspersed with winding streets of cobalt sparkling in the mid-morning sun. 

Benji shielded his face with a hand, his eyes dry from the merciless breeze. The speckled horse beneath him lurched upwards, and Benji's stomach flipped. He gripped tighter around Luka’s toned waist to stop himself slipping off the leather saddle. In front of them, Asterin and Quinn rode next to each other. Their long hair tangled and wound behind them, dancing in the wind's laughter as it whipped and wailed down from the high peaks in an excited frenzy. A hysterical laugh from Quinn was thrown back to him by the wind, its tone distorted almost unearthly, only to be followed by the slightly more restrained chuckle he knew to be Asterin's. Benji smiled into Luka's hair. This was the family he belonged in. Each person completely different yet at the same time inseparable. 

His parents had not seen that. They had never lost a chance to shove him and his friends into the mould of the cadre. Insisting they were just like the mighty warriors, the next group of royal lapdogs. His chest tightened. He had tried to shake the label for years, seeing through the stories of their might. Power had forced them together and they had bonded over violence, cruelty and revenge. He had seen it in the steely looks of hatred in Lorcan's eyes, the long disappearance of Fenrys into the mountains and the haunted scars on his father. These were not things with which you could build any stable foundation. He looked ahead, letting his thoughts wander. Quinn and Asterin talked animatedly, he caught snatches of a conversation about stable hands as he looked up once again. Their conversation was lilted with half-sentences and seemed to be happening on an almost psychic level. 

His chest loosened as he thought back. Before he was born they had become friends, not through royal diplomacy or power matches but through chance, or as Luka often commented, the twisted ways of Fate. They had always been inseparable; he could not remember a time when they weren't stealing pies from the kitchens, sparring on the dining table or exploring the castle's more hidden locations. All for the fun of it. He had time and time again thrown his parents approval down the drain to save their hides for no legend of 'The Cadre' has been as convincing as the power he saw in their friendship. 

They had come across a deep grove in the mountainside were the crevices of slated rock were protected from the elements and base greenery had given life to salvage this desolate place. It was a subtle miracle and an enchanting beauty in all its simplicity. 

Up ahead Quinn and Asterin turned a corner further into the mountainside, disappearing from view. Luka urged his horse to quickly follow. 

The entrance to the cave they had entered was small - barely large enough for a horse to slip through - and overgrown with fungi. Slightly florescent moss covered the walls, and ferns reached down from the low tunnel ceiling, playfully catching in his hair as he they ambled past. When he emerged into the main room the contrast was startling. While the entrance was reclaimed by nature, he was still amazed at how homely this room looked. Benji's eyes widened in awe, still. The entrance to the cave was as majestic as when they had first found it. 

If he thought about it, it was actually very lucky they had found it at all. The cave was hidden in the crevice of a valley, contained by rock walls covered in - he wrinkled his nose - a rather sour smelling moss. A canopy of dead vines, ice and snow was strung across the top of the crevice, and grew throughout the antechamber in rugged clumps making it virtually impossible to notice from above. Well it should have been impossible. Which is to say if Quinn hadn’t accidentally fallen through whilst exploring the peaks years before, they likely would have gone their entire lives without knowing of its existence. Carved into one side of the rock wall was a monumental stag. It was a monolith in the damp room, weathered with age but as majestic as it would have been in life. The Lord of the North. 

Asterin dismounted smoothly, grabbing the reins of Friesian before efficiently crossing them room to scale up and behind the carving. Her goal was a small door Benji could just make out, carved into the rock behind the left antler, nearly invisible in the weak light that managed to break through the ice covering above. Benji felt Luka shift in front of him and he awkwardly disentangled his arms. They dismounted, and Benji looked around as he felt something cold drip onto his shoulder. Above him, pinpricks of light speckled down, dappling the scenery surrounding him. Another drop. This time on his head. Peeking around the shards of light he spied melted snow leaking through the canopy. He smiled, intending to dodge out of the exposed spotlight. Turning to Luka just in time to see a clump of slush fall into his friends dark hair. He snorted, his breath letting out a slight icy puff in the air as Luka let out a loud gasp, a violent shiver buckling his spine, its ferocity making Benji wince a smile still pinned to his face. Luka stamped his foot on the ground in exclamation, gasping as he leaned over, wildly shaking his head. His sharp stamping sent pebbles skittering and the snow above teetered closer to the caverns edge and their heads. Quinn and Asterin had, by now, both quietly disappeared through the hidden door already. Taking the hint, Benji quickly grabbed Luka's arm amid the boys' growing stream of muffled curses, dragging him towards the hidden door out of the way of nature's impending snowball fight.

The stag was set deep into the wall and as Benji hauled Luka over its body he instinctively leant back, his spine digging into a carved knob set into the precisely flat wall. Luka finally fluffed out his now snowless damp hair, Benji resisted the urge to stop right there and hug the boy as he heard his friend's teeth start chattering from the cold. Turning away he heaved at the little door. With a click that echoed in harmony with the rattling of Luka's teeth he slipped through the door and into their hideout. A little alcove of secrets.

The interior of the cave was circular, with high ceilings and smooth walls of andesite. There were two offshoots hollowed into the walls of the large room, one going left, the other right. Benji watched as Quinn emerged from the left entrance brushing away hay from her already ruined outfit. Benji could already imagine, the other two horses in the room beyond, drinking the clear snow melt Benji had collected days earlier to thaw and whatever hay Quinn hadn't become attached to. Quinn caught his eye as she kicked the last of the prickly stalks off of her and flipped him off, easily guessing his thoughts. 

Several burning torches situated along the walls lit the room with a warm glow. To the far right, four bed rolls lay, piled haphazardly, threatening to topple the tall stack of books next to them. Asterin was setting up their 'dart' board on the farthest wall, climbing over the large leather couch in the centre of the room, knives balanced precariously in her arms, hair and teeth. Quinn leaped into the couch, sprawling atop its worn cover, a knife glinting in her hands as she waited for Asterin to finish hooking the beaten board to the wall. Luka had moved away from Benji and now padded through the left doorway with his mare and Benji's eyes quickly fell to the wilted pile of flowers in his hands. Luka softly laid them onto the oak table next to the doorway. He carefully made a vacant space upon the precarious pile already built up there. The table was really two bedside bureau's, shoved together when the first one began to pile up. Still, the expanded space was already overflowing with maps, weapons, and crockery. It had taken them two labour filled weeks to haul the stuff up to the cave, and they were constantly making painstaking trips for their own personal additions to their humble abode. But it was definitely worth it. It was one of the only places in their universe that they could escape to - the one place that they could hide without the constant pressure of reality. 

"Hurry up," Quinn groaned as Asterin straightened the throwing board. Benji slumped onto the couch. The limp flowers taunting him form across the room had been an icy reality check and all the stress and anger from his morning came crashing back around him. As Luka approached, his eyes full of concern, Benji released a sigh preparing to finally vent his shattering morning to the empathetic ears of his friends. Asterin moved the board a little more to the right, and walked back towards them, a triumphant smirk on her red lips. Benji closed his mouth just as he was about to begin, his brow furrowed.

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen," Asterin announced brazenly, "the game is on." Quinn rose eagerly and palmed two short knives in her hand. Benji slowly rose beside her, a question already forming on his lips. He did not want to play games, he had come here to talk, to feel his friends support and--

His eyes felt hot and he struggled to swallow before a thud stopped his swirling emotions short. 

Luka looked back at him, arm still outstretched, a knife was buried in the board, just shy of the middle, pinning the flimsy target to the wall. Their eyes met and Luka took a deep breath, holding his friends gaze. A simple dare. 

Benji mimicked him. His breath was rattling but solid, grounding him. He blinked. Luka dipped his head ever so slightly, face quietly calm and walked to the left chamber of the cave. 

Luka did not believe in violence. 

But he did believe in Benji.

Quinn took a step forward, her grey eyes narrowing on the target before her. The board was fairly large but divided into twelve quadrants which decreased in size. Not an easy target. Her breathing steadied as she raised her knife and threw it with immortal strength towards the board. Bull's eye. Her aim had knocked Luka's knife which clattered to the floor. A triumphant smirk emerged on her face, and she flicked her auburn hair casually over a shoulder.

"Beat that," she said to Benji as she dropped back down on the sofa beside Asterin, who clapped a hand on her best friend's shoulder. Benji clenched his fists. He stooped to pick up Luka's knife, his rife emotions sharpening into a new determination. His anguish was replaced with an equally devilish smile. Although, they were weapons of their own rights – they were no strangers to knives.

"With pleasure," he whispered, moving back, away from the board. The embroidered leather hilt of the dagger gleamed in his hands, and he slowly turned towards the board. Behind him, Quinn sniggered into Asterin's shoulder, evidently amused at his serious demeanour. 

In the span of a few seconds, Benji positioned himself, raised his hand, and launched the dagger. A thud sounded as the dagger buried itself deep into the board. Two centimetres above Quinn's. He grabbed another knife, an iciness spreading from his palm and coating its hilt. Loosing it just as swiftly as the last, this one edged further away from the middle. The final dagger touched his palm and a darker blue glow buried itself into the hilt and he felt the blade turn into a smoking icy point. He pinned it at the board and all four daggers exploded in shards of glacial steel. The fragments bounced off twin barriers around both Asterin and Quinn and Benji. He watched their cold remains repelled from his bubble and one arching silver point pierced the last blooming flower from Lukas bouquet across the room. On the couch, Quinn howled with laughter, Asterin evidently trying to suppress a grin beside her. 

"Well," Asterin said, sliding from the couch and grabbing the dagger hidden on her waist, "Lucky I brought an extra set." 

Quinn and Benji smiled with her as the competition spilled into the lively atmosphere. A protective bubble encasing the fierce and friendly haven they had built for themselves within this mountain cave. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Better luck next time, ice boy," Quinn gasped out between fits of laughter. They had called it at the best of seventy-five and Benji's aim had changed for the worse in the last twenty-five rounds. "I think that was the worst shot I've ever seen you take." She shook her head, grinning at him. "Luka," she called loudly, "You can come back. Bring Atlas with you so I can actually have some competition, it's not like Benji's even hitting anything in here." 

Her jaunty manner was lost as she shrieked, jumping away from Asterin who had poked her in the side, playfully, with her knife. "If I recall, I beat both of you, fifty-five to twenty."

Quinn whipped her head back to Asterin. "That's besides the point." She moved behind Asterin and plucked the knife out of her hand. She threw it hurriedly from her position behind her friend. Benji watched it bury into the board knocking his only dagger out and forcing him out of the game. He wouldn't normally have minded but as he lost momentum and his thoughts once again began to wonder; h e had to concede, he wouldn't normally flee from his family before noon either. Quinn twisted out of Asterin's range and smiled from the board back to him. "Seriously Benji, just because your second in line doesn't mean you should try to be second best all the time." 

She collapsed back onto the couch laughing. She looked to Asterin for a similar reaction. But this time Asterin only frowned at her, her eyes focused on Benji's face. "Quinn," Asterin reprimanded, "Come on. Benji's not had the best of mornings days." She glanced at his abysmal loss on the board, "or days." Quinn looked at her in disbelief. Her teasing wasn't unusual, and Asterin had rarely commented on it before.

"It's just a game," she grumbled. "What's up, anyway, I always kick Benji's ass." She looked to Benji, whose face was deepening to scarlet, and gave him a suggestive wink. Asterin sighed, having learnt long ago that Quinn was simply…Quinn. Asterin reached over towards the bookshelf, grasped two leather-bound books, and shoved one into Quinn's hands. Quinn's eyes glinted in annoyance, but she took the book, settling into the couch to read it. Luka walked back into the room, a wary expression on his face as he settled beside Benji.

"Okay,” Asterin said warily, tapping the leather cover of her book decisively and holding his gaze. She curled into the couch beside Quinn, who did not bother to look up from the worn, leather book cradled in her hands. “Benji, Quinn doesn't always kick your ass, but she does always spin a verbal warfare. Ignore her. What's really up.” Benji gazed mindlessly at his calloused hands. Asterin's words were collected and nonchalant, diplomatic as always and an invitation. He nodded before slowly bringing his molten eyes towards her's. Beside him, Luka clasped a comforting hand on Benji's shoulder. 

“They never listen to me"

Quinn loosed a breath as if to say 'here wo go again'. 

"– they have no regard for whatever I say. If I come up with an idea, Bryn always, always, finds a way to undermine it,” he went on angrily, his fists clenching. 

At the sound of Bryn’s name, Asterin’s contrasting eyes narrowed in distaste. Luka gently caressed Benji's back in comfort, before his hand travelled down to clasp Benji's own, squeezing it tightly and encouraging him to go on. “They treat me like a child,” Benji continued defeatedly, “like I’m some sort of mindless, stupid –”

“Well,” Quinn interjected matter-of-factly, closing her copy of Rocking the Ruks, a storm brewing in her cloudy, grey eyes, “you are pretty stupid.” Asterin just pitched an eyebrow, casting a wayward glance to the fiery female beside her. 

"Quinn," Asterin began, "just because I snapped at you earlier does not mean that - "

"No," Benji interrupted with a near growl. The good mood they had always managed to create in this place, with the friendly competitions and dumb games of an all day fiesta, was drained from the room as Benji's hurt expression morphed into one of anger. He knew Quinn had finally went too far. 

"Let her continue." 

Quinn's eyes narrowed, trying to determine whether he was mocking her or not. Benji tilted his chin up, steely facing his friends. 

“Do you hear yourself?” Quinn eventually accused. Her hair building into a fiery halo framing her face. She flicked a quick glance towards Asterin who did nit meet her eyes before focusing her full attention on Benji. “You are a prince, you live in a palace, and you’re annoyed because mummy won’t let you parade around in front of the Kingdom?” She shook her head, reopened her book, and continued reading. Benji stood in shock; he couldn’t believe that Quinn – one of his best friends – would say such a thing. He looked towards Asterin and Luka, hurt glistening on his face.

“Do you all think this?” he inquired quietly, focusing on Luka’s golden face. His friend looked into his eyes, his face softening.

“Benji,” he began slowly, “of course we don’t. It’s just that, sometimes, you get me really worried when really…" he shrugged, "And, I guess…maybe, you just blow things out of proportion.” Benji’s heart broke, he felt helplessly cast out to sea under his friend’s soft gaze. Asterin looked at him, her eyes steady. 

“We will always be here for you, Benji,” she said simply, “but remember that you're only seventeen – you will have a lot of chances to contribute to Terresan. You just have to patient." Her eyes searched his face. He knew she was right in what she was saying, but the painful truth still settled heavily, like a stone in his stomach. He looked away from them towards the entrance of the cave, which was beginning to glow softly; the sun was setting. 

"It's getting late," Benji said, betrayal etched over his features, "I should leave". Although they had built this place as their home Benji was itching to get out. He knew instinctively it was late and the pressure of getting home only built onto his insecurity. He felt suffocated and he stepped out of Luka's embrace in an attempt to regain some control. A greenish glow poked out from underneath the carved entrance as the bioluminescent plant life light up the Stags chamber above. His eyes were fixated on the door and his silent fixation drew his friends attention. Quinn glanced up at him, her hard gaze softening.

"BJ," she began in concern, "you know I care about you, I just thought that -"

"It's fine," Benji responded simply, blinking away the moment and starting to move. Forcing his face to appear unconcerned. 

He stilled for but a moment and looked straight at her. "But I am not second best. I will find a way to prove myself - just you wait," 

Luka reached out to him as if to say or do something to reassure or comfort him. He pivoted out of reach and wrenched the cavern's entrance open. A moment later and a flash of white illuminated the cave. Benji felt his form swallowed into the beast within. The predator always lurking just beneath his skin. 

By the entrance of the cave, where a tall, blonde male had stood only moments ago, loomed the gigantic figure of a spotted leopard. Its black and yellow pelt was sleek and glossy, and its tail swished powerfully. It bounded through the entangled vines that guarded the hideout.

Benji looked back at the inviting warmth of the cave and his friends for a moment with tawny feline eyes, then turned and padded down and out into the chilled night upon the mountains. 

I took this stuff out, but its decent writing so its up to you guys to delete

His leopard form was the one thing he had over Bryn - although his sister had many abilities, she had never displayed the ability to shift. Probably because there wasn't a creature devilish enough for her to morph into.   
He'd already missed their afternoon sparring. Although, he thought bitterly, he'd be surprised if they even noticed his prolonged absence.   
"Take Juniper," Luka called to him quickly, motioning to the speckled mare at the back of the cave. Benji simply shook his head, using one hand to brush back the overhanging vines. Outside, the sun was slowly setting over the grassy hills, illuminating the great city of Terresan.   
"Not today," he said softly.   
Benji stared wordlessly at them for a moment with tawny, feline eyes, then padded through the entrance of the cave and out into the glaring, afternoon light.


	8. Benji Whitehorn-Galathynius

The town was still as a tinged mist settled upon the peaked roofs and sloping paved streets of Orynth. Between the winding roads, the fog swirled, thinning and thickening in an almost random pattern, moving slowly towards the capital. Hidden within the thick fog lurked a giant, spotted predator. The leopard was near-invisible as the mist moved with him, sprawling further towards the city's inner sanctum. 

The castle. 

The leopard bounded down a narrow alley, and the street lights around him seemed to dim a little, their hazy glow near blackened in the ever darkening fog. The eyes of the leopard, instead, seemed to glow as the beacon in the seedy parts of town.   
From above, the city was lost in the clouded mass. Only a few taller spires managed to break through above and reach to the stars from below.

As the fog reached the castle gates, it was stilled. The crashing wave seemed to meet a barrier that stilled its travel, and the roiling mist spilled over the massive protective dome that surrounded the castle before slipping off and gathering deeper into the city streets below. Leaving the castle in all its grandeur, once again, open to the heavens above. 

The gates did not creak as a young but well-built youth bounded over them, glowing slightly yellow as his feline hind legs made way to the heavy duty boots of a royal warrior. 

Benji gazed behind him at the town swallowed by his slow spreading mist, seeping out of him in an elegant release of the days frustration. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists at his side. As he slowly made his way under the cover of darkness to the castle's side entrance, the mist behind him dissipated into nothing, leaving the muggy streets exposed in their quiet slumber. Benji had never known where his powers came from - his ability to shroud the world in a dark, whirling mist. His power was unlike his parents - it did not engulf the world in flame, or create a great storm - but a formidable weapon in its own right. It allowed him to travel, undetected, through the city. 

Slipping into the castle through a loose window on the first floor, Benji gazed around him. His eyes were still slits, their predatory gaze an ever-present nightlight. The wind swept in through the open window behind him, shifting the gauzy curtains of the small but grand room he had just entered. It was a chamber located to the side of the throne room, a door blending in to the paneling to his right. The desk lay out against the opposite wall, raised slightly on the lumber floor as it looked over the room's centerpiece. 

Benji shivered. The war room was gathering dust over the peaceful reign of his mother. But it did not lessen his foreboding thoughts as he seemed to feel the tension, violence and heartbreak that this room had endured in its existence. He was careful to let the comforting sweep of the wind precede him, clearing the dust upon the floor to prevent his footfalls from leaving traceable marks. He made his way over to the monolithic, timber table taking up most of the room's space. It was centered under another skylight and the weak moon light, spotlighting the massive map resting on its surface. It was likely one of the most valuable objects in the castle; scholars had spent years mapping the continents and cultures which made up their world. They had spent centuries unravelling the weaknesses in their enemies' landscapes, and the flaws in their allies' homes.

He looked down at the aged parchment and gazed at his world. Erilea. It had not changed much, he was told, from the broken lands that were threatened with war a century ago. The deserted lands had remained peaceful and solitary. The Wastes had once again been filled with its rightful citizens, a glamourous mix of witches and humans under Ansel and Manon's reign. Adarlan, Fenharrow, Melisande and Eyllwe were all rebuilding along the Eastern Coast. Their freedom and prosperity had returned bountifully after their liberation from Adarlan. He gazed in enchantment at the Eastern side of the continent and the many cultures that had been built alongside of each other on this land. Unlike the spacious wastes and deserts that were tucked away behind the White Fang mountains, he found the other kingdoms to act much like a close-knit community, thanks to his parents reign. His eyes travelled again and again to Eyllwe, the quiet tip of his continent that had always allured him. Renowned for its beliefs of freedom, but also its beautiful culture and diplomacy, he had yearned to travel there for years. 

His mother had seemed eager to take him up on it, and as he traced away the dust from the landmarks on his country he recalled his excitement to travel so far from Terresan. The voyage had been perfectly planned, only to fall to the way-side with his mother's pregnancy. Bryn and his father had forcefully dissuaded his mother from the idea. The mere month-long trip would have been completed before even her first term, but once again his parents had pushed him and his dreams to the sideline for a different sibling. This time, he had lost to a mere embryo. 

His eyes followed the coast before his gaze dropped off the map. He knew beyond the eastern border laid Wendlyn, but his parents would never allow it to be mapped. He'd spent countless hours searching the palace's library before he found even a detail of what lurked beyond the right of the map. Doranelle still remained woefully unmarked as a result of the layers of enchantments the Fae had cast to safeguard their territory. Not that his parents would even want the city marked, he thought warily - not after Maeve. He thought beyond even Wendlyn, to the Southern Continent. The maps guided him to find a continent harsher than even his own, and he could not help but feel for all its wonders the continent was a reflection of its people. His eyes traced across the empty space, unseeing of the room, until he could imagine the landscapes filling out before him. Despite their unmarked place, Benji could envision Wendlyn and the Southern Continent perfectly, could see their ridged mountains and harsh deserts. But further down the map lurked a land mass that had forever mystified him. Unmarked, label-less, discarded or disguised. The South-East was dismissed in all 'world' maps. All he knew of its geography was its sharp fanged shape - like the tooth of a great, wild animal. A shiver ran up his spine as the image dissolved in front of him until he once again could see only the familiar twists and crags of his homeland. 

He moved away from the map only to hear a click. A noise any mere human would have missed. He slid over to the disguised door, abandoning the map and tucking away his dreams of an exciting new land. He followed the sound, scanning for a scent. If his mother found him in the war room again, she'd surely give him the walloping of his life. Slowly, he moved away from the door and entered the throne room. It was unlit like the room he had just come from, but unlike the war room it was clean and fresh and definitely not empty. 

A messenger peaked through the massive arched doors that faced the ornate dais. The thrones were seated upon those three steps, antlers curling from their steep backs, weaving angular shadows upon the carpet that lined the centre of the hall. A bank of windows behind the dais provided the room with light, inviting the man into the heart of his kingdom, even at this late hour. Benji assessed the man; he was tired looking, and seemed harried and defeated as he took in the empty room. His hair was mussed under his navy cap and his boots were scuffed and muddy from an evidently long journey. His bag was depleted, although one of his hands was tucked neatly inside. Grasping, Benji could only guess, a very important message for his mother. In an instant, Benji made up his mind. 

He strolled across the floor towards the man, his shoes making a slight scuff as he moved from the smoothed stone outer floor to the rugged centre. The messenger looked up at him, and Benji smiled calmly. Despite the late hour, despite the darkened room, despite his second-best rank, he straightened his spine, folded his hands behind his back and took a deliberate step towards the tired man. 

The confusion and hesitance he had seen battling on the open face of the messenger faded, a resolute expression appearing on his features. The fist in the bag loosened and the man sealed the satchel, closing off the contents within. "I realize the lateness of the hour would prevent me receiving an audience with the Queen. I was hopeful, but I accept I will have to wait until tomorrow."

Benji resisted the urge to flick his eyebrows up in surprise. The tone of the man made Benji want to dive into a self-defensive tirade, and he was thankful he caught himself before he did so. He would not give this man what he wanted - he was not an arrogant teen that could be dismissed by a messenger. He took a breath, and let his smile relax into an easy grin. "Yes, I must congratulate you on your passion to return an important message to her despite it being the dead of night. You show honour to work so hard for your country. However to ease your struggles I can take the letter off your hands and deliver it myself. You surely look in need of a well earned break." Benji held out his hand. 

The man's demeanor was shaken as Benji stood calmly before him; he was now caught in his own crossfire. He knew to refuse would be to refute absolute loyalty to the crown, but that giving Benji the letter would contradict his very intention in starting the conversation. Benji inwardly grinned wide and took another calm and eloquent step forward. 

The man blinked bleakly and withdrew the letter hesitantly. "I am supposed to give this directly to the Queen," he insisted, weighing up his actions even as he allowed Benji to close the gap between them. 

"I assure you this will find its why into the rightful hands." The man drew his arm back slightly. "Of the Queen," Benji enunciated, "thus saving you the trouble of any delay. 

Benji took one final step and looked at the man, who now appeared dead on his feet. His features more haggard in Benji's feline vision, betraying his desire to be at rest. "I am her son. I will be able to deliver this with the haste you have shown by coming to her tonight." Benji almost thought he could hear the blow land as the wiry man held the letter out to him. He took it slowly and as he held the paper, forcing his eyes to look indifferent while he quickly pocketed the valuable message. 

The man finally let his shoulders slump. He nodded and ambled out of the room, eager to relax after a tiresome journey. Benji waited a few seconds before following, calmly tracing his steps back to his own room, restraining his urge to leap into the air with jubilation and a fist pumped into the sky. He couldn't believe it. He had finally gotten a break. His mind wandered excitedly as he thought over what the contents of the letter might contain. Unrest in the Fang Mountains, perhaps, or aid needed in the Wastes or possibly even an invitation from Eyllwe that was for his whole family. 

He opened his heavy oak door and stepped into his room. He scanned it rigorously until he was satisfied he would not be disturbed, lit a lamp, and clicked his door shut. Benji dove excitedly onto his bed, simultaneously ripping the letter from his pocket and reading the address. The handwriting was small and precise. A quick scrawl of his mother's name and title with no return address greeted him, and he leapt off the bed with as much haste as he had jumped on. Bounding over to his desk he attempted some stealth as he rustled through the mess, finally surfacing with a letter opener. All the while his mind was tumbling over exciting possibilities of adventure and escape within. It was like a cascading waterfall and his heartbeat pounded like the rocks at the base of the crashing mass. A constant drumming, reminding him this note may give him the chance to finally prove himself. His stomach swirled in anticipation, and if he had still been in leopard form his tail surely would have been twitching. He would be the first to truly do something; his parents would finally see him. 

He ripped open the envelope, not even bothering to hide the tearing from whoever would next posses this letter. His fingers reached in, grasping ahold of a small piece of paper. He looked down at the note. It was not a lengthy or important letter printed upon some fine waxy paper, but a folded, ripped piece of paper. His heart sank. Surely this had to be something important, the messenger wanted it to directly go to his mother, after all. A waft of leathery scent, wyverns and the sharp tang of iron drifted from the envelope. His nose twitched and his heart rose again. Manon. There must be some top secret information in the note and the reason it was so scrappy was because Manon was busy fighting an enemy, he reasoned fiercely to himself. Benji nodded his head decisively. Of course. That was the reason. He slowly unfolded it and stared in disbelief for a moment of silence.   
He threw it across the room in frustration. 

Nothing. 

There was Gods damn nothing. All that was scrawled on the letter was the word 'Trouble'. What was he meant to do with that. How the f*** was he supposed to prove himself with the cryptic word TROUBLE. By the wyrd!

He forced himself to cast out the lights and the darkness he plunged himself into was charged with fury. He just wanted one thing. The chance to prove himself. The chance to get people to look at him and see someone worthwhile. No shadows to stand behind, no glory to live up to, no second best. 

He looked across the room to where he knew the word mocked him and he felt tears of anger slide down his cheek as he submitted to the darkness around him.


	9. Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius

Benji knew he looked a mess. While yesterday he had trudged into the dining room for a rather late breakfast with his usual morning fatigue, today he felt barely conscious. He'd tossed and turned all night, finally giving up on the hopeless possibility of sleep and had risen for what he knew would be a shockingly early start to another dreary day. His only hope was that he would beat his sister to breakfast, and be able to shovel enough food, quickly enough, into his near-comatose form to escape her presence entirely. 

He was looking down at his feet through constantly closing eyes, his ears strangely quiet. The sounds of the castle were dulled and pairs of feet striding past him were few and far between. He struggled to think through the fuzzy haze in his mind. Just how early was it?

He raised his head, squinting his eyes at the glare coming through one of the windows that lined the hallway. It was open to the early spring mists, that, at dawn, still weighed heavily on the hills. He took a deep breath, taking solace at the dense clouds' familiar, swirling touch. He dragged his feet past the sprawling view, catching sight of himself in an ornate mirror hanging on the same wall just ahead. 

After a pathetic and brief battle with himself, he abandoned the pretense of any self-respect and looked at what he knew would be a prince in shambles staring back at him. He was not disappointed. His hair was sticking out at the completely wrong angle on one side, his shirt was on backwards and his shoulders seemed to be permanently stuck at different heights due to a crick in his neck. Even he cringed at his outfit; it looked like he'd dressed drunk, in the dark. It wasn't that far from the truth. He was drunk, drunk on failure. 

He slumped and continued on into the dining room, wrestling half-heartedly with his shirt before giving up entirely. He made his way through the high-ceilinged room towards the oak table at its center, looking up in premonition. 

His sister, thank wyrd, wasn't there. In fact, the table was abandoned of any Whitethorn-Galathynius. He sat down in relief and immediately poured himself some tea. Cradling the hot mug in his stiff hands he stooped over its calming herbal scent. He looked up to find a table full of platters befitting the families' normal breakfast. His thoughts slowly caught up with the situation and he surveyed the table in bizarre question. It was too far too early for the royal family to have even woken, so why was the table set for breakfast…

He looked up the table and tilted his head in an attempt to relieve the uncomfortable ache in his neck, unintentionally meeting the golden eyes of a fierce white-haired figure draped in a blood-red cloak. He jumped in surprise and tea splashed onto his pants. He hissed. She was alert, watching him stoically, making her way through the vast meal set before her. Occasionally sharp iron nails would peak out from beneath her fingertips as she ate. Benji paled as he looked into the sharp and calculating eyes of Manon Blackbeak. 

Panic was slow on the uptake and he took a sip from his tea almost subconsciously. He slurped nervously, his tired brain catching up and sending him into the borderline panic he should have been feeling for the past ten minutes he had been in her presence. He blinked mindlessly at her, his brain trying to interpret the image before him. How the hell did he manage to walk into the throne room without noticing that the most powerful witch was seated at their table? In the seat next to him?!

He gulped his tea, burning his tongue. The letter. She must be here for Aelin - and Aelin hadn't gotten the letter. S***. Manon smiled as if she knew, finishing her mouthful calmly. He shrunk down in his seat.

Benji had seen Manon on rare encounters throughout the years. He knew that her 'spontaneous' visits to see her daughter or take her from Adarlan or the Wastes to Terresan had a darker meaning and had gleaned that her travelling was not just a hobby. It extended far beyond her trips with Asterin to teach her the ways of the witches and rulers world. He now realised that the dire meaning of the word 'TROUBLE' had been lost on him, but was likely a good indicator of the kind of work her travels led to. He jumped again, pulled from his thoughts by her voice cutting through the silence of the room. 

"It seems odd, to me, that Aelin has not made her way to see me this morning. I sent ahead a note of my presence. Personally, I thought she would have seen its importance." She spoke matter-of-factly and seemed merely curious, even a might unperturbed. Benji could feel his panic rising and he gripped his tea harder to stop his hands from shaking. He knew despite her outward appearance Asterin's mother would be feeling much more than curious about the situation. He needed to get the hell out of this room.

He was so dead. 

Why did he have to take that stupid note? Now he had the scariest woman he knew on to him - and that was saying something, given that his mother was likely a close second. She would probably find out too. No. Definitely find out. This was it. He was a goner. All for a little note, a single word that didn't even help him…

Manon looked back at him after a few mouthfuls, her brow quirked in puzzlement as he remained frozen much longer than any innocent person would. "Is everything alright with your mother, Benji?" she asked. He could feel genuine concern as she misinterpreted the stilted gaze he was giving her. 

He nodded thoughtlessly and squirming under her gaze he began to rise from his chair. Taking harried steps backwards, he forced his thoughts to align. He managed to blurt out, "Yes, fine, you just reminded me of something…that I had to do, yep, so..." He turned around and leaned a sharp left and nearly crashed into the oaken door frame, sweating under Manon's gaze. He forced himself to walk as normally as possible before he turned a corner. 

And bolted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Benji dashed through the halls. His brain now fully alert. He was moving at a ridiculous pace and was glad that the time of day left the halls practically abandoned. He took a corner recklessly, slipping on the polished floors as he stumbled into his room to grab the note. 

He was off again in under a minute; bolting down through the family quarters and into the guest wing. He didn't even bother knocking as he burst into Asterin's room. 

He yelped loudly in surprise as her wards set off in a sharp burst of light, blinding him. He spun away from the door and crashed into a plush couch to the left of the entrance. His bones barked as he rebounded into a bookstack, slamming into it with an almighty thwack. He crumpled to the floor beside the bed. His already bruising limbs cushioned by her fluffy rug, clutching his eyes and cursing in pain. 

Benji rolled onto his back and felt the light fade from its pressuring hold on his vision. He peaked through gaps in his fingers to look up at the bleary teenage looming over him from her spot on the bed. 

"What are you doing?" She mumbled with displeasure. Benji's hesitancy was long enough to lose her short-tempered interest. She collapsed back down on the bed and her arm lurched over the side, hand resting threateningly close to Benji's still tender pupils. He took the threat with a gulp and got straight to the point. 

"Your mother is here," he whispered, his breath bating dramatically as he waited for her reaction. 

Asterin's form stilled as she slowly sat up again and looked down at him speculatively. "What."

"She's in the dining room, right now. Having breakfast and waiting for my mother." Benji readied his heart, its beat once again rising in anticipation. "Did you know?"

Asterin's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly and she swung her legs over the bed's side, black nightgown puffing out. "No."

Before she stood up Benji held out the note he had been tightly grasping in his fist. Asterin took it and he saw her face change. He felt the shift in the room around him. An echo of her temper which he sensed boiling just below the surface within. "Let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two fae royals raced through the palace. When they had emerged from Asterin's room. Benji had been wary of her tenacious mood as they headed to the dining room. She had been a little cranky to say the least, but as they neared the other wing of the palace Asterin picked up her pace and their fast-walking became an anxious race. 

Asterin stopped and Benji nearly stacked it as he tried to slow down with her. He walked back a few steps to stand beside his friend and he too stilled. Slowly, they both inclined their heads to a doorway just a few strides behind them as they made out the sounds of conversation between two females, muffled by the castles thick walls. Asterin opened the window immediately next to them and perched on the sill before scaling the wall and propping herself up underneath the open frame of one of the banked, vine laden windows that lined the throne room next door. 

Benji mimicked her and they settled somewhat precariously on the ivy trellis that framed the arching window. As he settled he could make out nearly word for word the conversation of the two women within and he gazed anxiously at Asterin as he distinguished the voice. The voices of their mothers. Benji could feel Asterin's cranky demeanor fade as the possibilities behind this discussion being in this room piqued her interest, entirely. 

Benji called up a subtle mist around the windows to encompass and amplify their voices. Asterin shivered in her night gown and he looked at her apologetically but was satisfied to sense the absence of the breaking birdsong as the greying cloud drowned out the sounds of the waking world around them. And as the sound grew clearer he realized Manon and Aelin were sitting, not at the thrones, but perched at one of the benches a few meters off from the window they had hidden beneath. An informal discussion. And Manon was leading it. 

"--the movement has taken a new pattern. It's more predictable to catch them, but I have no idea what has caused the sudden and orderly movement." Manon's voice drifted out the window to them. Her tone was winding, up and down. Resisting the temptation to peak through the window at the two queens. He could imagine Aelin seated on the bench with a nice cup of tea, already impatient at the thought of serious discussion so early in the day. 

The teens heard a quiet tapping as Aelin motioned for Manon. "And you're sure that it's the last of them?"

They heard a clink of delicate china as cup met plate, "I have been tracking and eliminating them for years. They are like moths to a flame. Whatever is drawing them now... it will draw them all."

Benji felt a rough jab and turned abruptly to Asterin. She had her brow furrowed and mouthed to him, Who? He just shook his head, poking her jestingly, but Asterin's serious look remained. He smiled reassuringly but couldn't help thinking to himself. Who or what?

"I believe they will head to Eyllwe. But their progress isn't particularly fast, they seem to have come out of the woodwork mostly from the Western border of the White Fang Mountains."

"Mmhm." Benji heard slurping as his mother paused to continue her drink. "I'm guessing you need some Terresan assistance clearing out the mountains, then?"

"Yes." Manon's voice was as steely as her famed Ironteeth. He stalled a little as he realised the clarity in which he could hear her clear tone meant she was approaching their hiding spot. Benji shivered as he saw metal nails rest carelessly on the sill above him. A breeze rustled his hair tauntingly and he felt Asterin push back into the wall at the sight of her mother. He followed suit. 

Glancing up, he saw the tumbling white locks of Manon blow lightly back in the room as the breeze picked up. She looked out on the fields below and he saw a softness in her gaze as she took in the tranquil landscape. Before a smirk lit her features. 

"However, I feel the need to return to the Wastes soon. I have not been there in many months and I don't trust Ansel as far as I can throw her."

"But your arm and aim are fantastic." His mother retorted. Manon sighed in response. "Remind me. How long have you been sharing that thrown?" He heard his mother's jesting smile.

"Long enough to have come a truce of sorts." The smirk grew.

"I am both amazed and proud to see your partnership has not ended in death."

"Yet."

Aelin laughed roughly and joined her friend at the window. Benji knew his cramped situation was anything but cheery, however, listening in on his mother's light-hearted conversation eased his heart just a little. He hadn't heard her easy banter in a while. 

It was good. 

He looked to Asterin, her face was tight with concentration and she remained as still as stone as his mother continued.

"It is all good and well to go and taunt Ansel for a few weeks, but what exactly are you planning to do with the Valg situation?"

Benji felt Asterin shift beside him in barely veiled shock. Her reaction, whilst silent, was far subtler than his own. He could not believe what he had just heard. Valg? Still? He had heard of them, they were the destructive foundation his parents had cleared away in a mighty war. They had infected everything and the world he lived in was a new beginning because of it. But his parents had told him they were all gone… 

He looked at Asterin and her slightly paled face told him it was news to her too. Movement above caught his eyes and he forced his pumping heartrate to slow so he could hear the conversation ahead over its thudding drum beat. 

"Yes. The Valg." Manon articulated, nodding. "The last of the valg that I haven't yet eradicated. They are heading to Eyllwe. And the destruction they cause, whilst nothing compared to what it could be, will put innocent towns at risk. And their numbers while small will take a small group, I suspect, to tackle."

Benji stirred at the words. His hopes began budding a little and despite his stiff limbs, his brain began turning. 

"Manon…that is not reassuring. If you plan on stepping away with the risk they may possess, even if it's little--"

"It will be an adventure for someone wanting to prove their worth. A chance to see the world, take it by the horns and show it what you can do."

"You want me to send some of the army's recruits?"

He was calculating the odds. They would need to raid the kitchens and the stables. A stop by the hideout to grab the other two and they were off. This was it, finally. His chance. Benji's eyes were glowing with joy at the sudden opportunity.

"No, not with the Valg. We are trying to raise prosperity. Or so you told me a hundred years ago, we must leave their youth out of this fight." 

"Then…"

Benji looked at Asterin with a determined smile. Her shock had abated or was cleverly concealed because as she read his features a knowing grin spread also across her face and she looked back and forth at the way they had come and their parents, the women's unsuspecting gaze blocking any escape. 

"It should be no more than a few weeks of work, and the travel will be engaging and the battles…an experience of both humility and power."

A mighty gust overtook the smaller breezes that had been tumbling past Benji and Asterin. He shivered as it rushed up his arms and twisted his hair over his eyes irritatingly before rising up from their hiding spot to the window above. It rocked the glass panes back and forth, creaking on their hinges and Benji looked up at the disturbance. And sudden silence. 

He saw his mother's face appear at the window. She looked a little shocked and her scheming smile was momentarily gone. It resurfaced as she inclined her head downward, slightly locking eyes with Manon. Benji held his breath, sucking in his stomach in failed attempt to make his tall frame slimmer. The other women nodded and Aelin's smile reached its peak. She swung herself with an elegant sweeping flourish to a seated position on the sill. Her rounded form peaked through the mist unbothered shading their view of the throne room above. Benji released the breath he had been holding. She hadn't noticed them. 

"So," Aelin began, her tone suddenly aloof, "where exactly do you think the 'group' should head to intercept these Valg?" She leaned out slightly into the tendrils oh white haloing her back, her strands of golden hair swirling in the wind.

Asterin glanced at Benji in both intrigue and wary. There was something different. A shift in emotion. Benji shrugged, his golden eyes glinting in the morning sun as he mouthed, "hormones". Asterin nodded, but still appeared uneasy, flattening her body against the sandstone so that her head was barely a foot away from the open, arched windows. 

Both women now seemed to be completely relaxed. As if the Valg were an easy threat. Manon looked near gleeful; her white teeth glinted, and she flicked her long braid over her leather-clad shoulder before continuing. 

"Well," Manon began, "I suspect following the coast until the Adarlan border before crossing diagonally into the Oakwald Forest. Pop out around Morath's remains and take the opposite diagonal through Fenharrow to cross the Eyllwe border near parallel to Lerioa. An easy, more…covert route down." Aelin nodded in accord and Asterin seemed to be concentrating intensely on these words. Thank Gods she would remember the specifics. He sure wouldn't.

"And it's only a few left?" Aelin asked, her head inclined towards the windowsill beside them. Her voice shook slightly, betraying some hesitancy. Motherhood had brought a softness to her. Manon nodded reassuringly.

"Yes," Manon replied, "how they managed to survive all this time after Erawan's destruction is rather irritating." 

"A blemish on your record." Aelin joked absentmindedly. Her gaze, for a moment, hardened in resolution as she looked down at her large stomach. "But," Aelin started, her voice raising in volume, "somebody very strong," she moved her hands erratically. Manon cringed, "and brave will be needed to destroy the last of the Valg." 

On the windowsill below, Benji's tawny eyes widened, his face alight with anticipation. He jerked forwards, his balance wavering as he excitedly tried to crawl closer to Asterin beneath the sill. Asterin grabbed his arm to stop him from plummeting to the cobbled paths below, a silent hiss emerging from her red lips. Benji smiled sheepishly; because this was it! This was his chance, his perfect opportunity.

The women nodded to each other, smiling and gradually departed from the window. Their voices were tossed about erratically in the wind as they embarked out of the room for the door. The sentences became misshapen to his ears. 

"--So reassuring."  
"--over dramatic b****."  
"--oh of all the great--"

As the mothers reached the door, the teenagers abandoned their eavesdropping. They locked eyes, and a glinting and fearsome look passed between them as the wind parroted the now undiscernible tones of their mothers easy conversation around them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Although, honestly Manon, why you didn't just send me a note, I don't understand." Aelin mocked from the doorway. "And you call me dramatic." 

But sadly, or perhaps conveniently, their voices had already been overwhelmed by the persistent winds and the teenagers below the throne room windows were oblivious to their mother's scheming as they produced a fearsome plan of their own.


	10. Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard

Asterin grasped the ivy covered window sill, sinking her nails into the soft stems as she flipped herself into the now-empty throne room. Her bare feet protested against the cold marble of the floor, but right now she didn't even care about the aches and pains of being a morning person. What they had just heard was life changing, but in what way she wondered . She looked back down to Benji, who was struggling to find his grip on the slippery, tangled ivy.

Come on, slow poke, you need to get a move on if you want to catch those Valg in the next hundred years."

Benji huffed a laugh. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not as practiced at being sketchy as you are." Asterin rolled her eyes and watched as he painfully tried to get a better grip on the ivy.   
His hurried movement sent a large jolt down the green rope, which pulled taught with a snap. The large string of vine ripped away from the building and plummeted towards the ground.

"Benji!" she exclaimed, mirth lighting her voice. "Stop destroying your castle." 

He groaned, "I'm sorry it's not my fault you made it look easier than it actually is, besides, I'm so excited my arms have gone all stupid and weak." He looked at her imploringly. "This is my chance, Asterin." 

She looked down at him a little skeptically. "Hold your horses, we haven't even left the castle yet." She returned his imploring look with one of mischief. "Besides, if you can't even conquer this plant… " Benji cocked an eyebrow in mock offence at her not-so-subtle baiting. 

"Let me demonstrate." he decreed. She smiled at the knowing expression and his huffing laugh as he crouched a little to catch his breath. 

A leopard launched at her from where moments ago a her friend had been awkwardly clinging to a wall. She watched as he prepared to leap to the window, an easy feat for his leopard form. His front paws grazed the windows edge as he jumped upwards. He was going to make it. Snap. And suddenly those back paws, mere seconds away from launching powerfully over the sill, were yanked back in an almighty lurch. Asterin eyes widened in disbelief and she quickly leant over to see what the hell had happened. And what she saw was both very concerning and ridiculously hilarious. Benji was dangling obscurely by his tail. A vine wrapped tightly around it, locking him in place. The idiot could have just done a chin up. He wriggled and tried in vain to scramble up the wall but only seemed to be succeeding in cutting away the fine greenery sprawling the castle wall. The fine greenery that was stopping him from falling. 

She swore, he really didn't think this through at all did he. With quick movements she wedged herself securely against the window frame and leaned her body dangerously out over the ledge, precariously balanced. Her hips scraped the edges of the sill as she careful lowered her whole upper body down to reach her friend. She grabbed onto his back paw and avoiding his claws she yanked. The leopard let out a yowl. Whether from embarrassment or pain she couldn't care less; for across her in one of the fields, she spied the young stable hand who had been chasing her, just yesterday. He seemed to be heading from the stables to the kitchen courtyard and to her surprise had not noticed the precarious situation they were in. Please don't see us, please don't see us, please don't see us. But the Gods were dead and luck was not on their side. The stable hand looked up and gawked. She redoubled her efforts.

Muscles straining she managed to untangle the ivy constricting his tail. It fell to the ground below and she jolted forward as she took his full weight, his leopard form now dangling only by the strength of her arms. And, as she now realised, her ability to do a sit up while holding him. She looked down hair curtaining her face as she unintentionally made direct eye contact with the gawking stable hand, now standing almost directly beneath them. She pictured herself pulling a helpless, squalling leopard into the two-story window of the castle, practically by his tail. It was absurd and she could only imagine what they were thinking. She raised one of her hands in a friendly gesture, mistakenly transferring his weight to only one arm. The imbalance of this stance caused her to lurch forward, feet slipping slightly on the window frame. They began to swing and Benji yowled again, this time more frantically. Instead of being reassured by her wave the stable hand now had rather terrified expression on his face and his hands were up as if he planned to at least attempt to catch them if they did indeed fall. How had this gone so wrong. She gritted her teeth and again grabbed Benji with both arms but continued to smile cheerfully at the stable hand. It's fine, everything's all fine.

Her muscles protested as she began dragging half of his body and probably double his Fae body weight up through the window. Finally she had enough momentum and well Benji to overbalance back onto the ledge, falling with a concerning chink against the glass. Once ensuring Benji's front paws had a good grip and he wouldn't topple off Asterin finally let go making sure to give one last insanely happy smile to the frozen and very unnerved stable hand below. 

She looked down with that satisfaction still plain on her features to see her friend, if she were quite frank, in shambles. Benji had dropped his animal shift, instead his tall form slouched awkwardly over the sill like fresh kill on a hunting trip. He finally reached his arms up, pathetically pushing his body over the sandstone carvings on the ledge. She watched as wiggled in a quite ungraceful manor and she winced as he finally hauled himself over.

"I must say, what a demonstration." She gave him two slow claps looking at him amusedly from his spot spooled out heavily on the floor. He groaned in response. "And now that you aren't at risk of falling to death. Let's go." She was already heading off to the dining room at the end of the long hall as she said this. Calling out teasingly over her shoulder. 

"Wait where are you going?" Benji stalled her movements with his query and she turned on her heel meeting his eyes. 

"Breakfast."

"We have just found out there is a threat moving through the land, right now! There is no time for breakfast." Benji's voice rose to a near squeak as he ran out of breath. 

"Look for one, something seemed off. My mother is normally never that forward with information…that obvious...I think we should give it a second and have some breakfast." She smiled, "besides giving the hour you woke me, I'm starving. Besides I'm pretty sure I just saved your life so I at least deserve some breakfast for my efforts." She turned again, towards the delicious smells wafting tantalizing out from the room ahead.

"Yes," he scratched his disheveled hair, "thank you for that." He smiled sheepishly, "I really thought I could make it… wait what… what do you mean about your mother? You think it’s a joke?" Benji trailed her anxiously, his jittery movements threatening to give her a headache before the day had even begun.

"Well, it just all seemed a little off. Why would she describe the jobs danger in such detail to Aelin if she didn't think it was important enough to do herself." Asterin carefully phrased her answer. She didn't want to crush Benji's hopes but her she knew her mother well. Her own doubts made it impossible to embody his sunny disposition.

"You heard Manon. She needs to visit the Wastes! She is Queen, what's so weird about that?"

"Yeah, I guess its reasonable." Except Asterin herself had never needed to stay at the Wastes for more than a week for her mother to have it back into order. 

"Plus! It was her note that said trouble, you can't deny that?" Benji's eyes were alight with hope and she could see the vulnerability beneath. The doubt carved deeper than most could bear. 

Asterin shook her head resignedly, trying to force that same light to her own face. The swirls of doubt in the stark blue of her left eye disguised beside her right's golden shimmer. "No Benji." She smiled, "I can't deny that."

She entered the dining room just a step behind Benji and the split second was all she needed to take a breath and re-centre, re-focus. Have faith in him. 

She expected people would no doubt be milling around servants and royals alike as the aroma of bacon and fresh fruit drew them to the centerpiece oak table. Instead she found the dining room abandoned of all but the food; still steaming slightly. An array so large it was barely marred by her mothers, no doubt enormous, meal. 

It was odd to see the Dining room so empty and it concerned her at just how early they must be. The room was clear of the normal hustle and bustle of servants and the Whitehorn-Galathynius's who seemed to use it as their own personal meeting room. Was it even past six in the morning? 

Asterin approached the table and grabbed a the closest slice of toast, thickly layered with butter, and watched as Benji followed her lead, wolfing down two slices of bacon and a pancake before turning to her. "I still can't believe it," he exclaimed, "Valg! Come on, Asterin, we have to check this out. This is amazing. What if we could kill them. We would be heroes."

Asterin watched him, excitement growing in the pit of her stomach, but her smile quickly faded as reality hit. "Benji, don't get too ahead of yourself, remember that this is not amazing. It's horrible. We have no idea what these Valg have been doing to innocent people - you remember the stories from the wars. They're dangerous. We shouldn’t be going after them for personal gain. You can't go in with the wrong motives."

Benji nodded at her, subdued by her words. She watched as he took a deep breath to calm himself before he half smiled. "Yeah, I'm sorry you're right. I think I just get a little ahead of myself, you know? I just want so badly to be involved in the kingdom and do something worthwhile. They seem to always brush me off - like the entirety of who I am and will be is defined by being the second child."

She smiled at him, rosy lips gleaming with butter. "Well, I know you, and I have no doubt you will do great things. I'm sure you will handle the Valg very heroically when we get there." She winked at him, "and of course who can help if a little personal gain happens to be an unfortunate side effect". She threw her arm out in a dramatic gesture. "All hail Benji, slayer of Valg, saviour of innocent villages."

Benji's half hearted expression pulled up into a grin and to her surprise he reached out and hugged her. "Thank you for believing in me," he whispered. He pulled back and she grinned at him. 

"Of course, you idiot, you're one of the closest things I have to a brother."

His eyes crinkled and he elbowed her ribs, "yeah sis let's get going. Who knows when Bryn will get here, and Gods knows we don't want to deal with that this early in the morning, it seems about the time an overachiever would arrive for breakfast"

As if summoned, the door behind them opened with a snap and Asterin turned to see Bryn glide haughtily into the room, blonde hair strangled in an obnoxiously neat bun. "Speak of the devil," she breathed, wryly raising her eyebrows at Benji. By the Wryd. She had barely managed to eat anything. There was no chance of a civil confrontation. She could not deal with Bryn. This would only end in chaos. 

A maid followed the princess in with a fresh silver buffet cart full of still steaming bacon, pancakes, eggs, fruit salad and already buttered toast. Thank God for that, she grabbed another slice of toast as she attempted to get to the doors, ready to sacrifice even her sapping hunger to get out of here. Not today, Bryn. She could feel Benji following her and they were nearly at the door when she felt Benji stall behind her. She turned to see what the problem was and nearly walked straight into a glowering Bryn.

Bryn's lips twisted. "Well, you're up early. Looks like this day is already full of surprises." She looked Asterin up and down condescendingly. "What the hell are you even wearing?" Asterin nearly rolled her eyes in spite. Of course. This early in the morning, and Bryn was already fit and revving for a fight.

Asterin smiled back sweetly and re-adjusted the sleeve of her dark night gown. "It's my ass kicking outfit," she replied innocently, staring at Bryn and taking an aggressive bite of her toast. Benji snorted, and when his sister gave him a look of utter distain he nearly burst out laughing. Asterin began to smile. Bryn had no power here. 

Bryn, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to that fact and continued. "You’re an heir, Asterin, you can't show up to a formal breakfast in your night clothes. Eating with your hands. What sort of message does that send to everyone? Benji, you too. Of course, it's not as important for you, but…" her nose crinkled, "It does make me look bad. What is that, beige and blue? And is that shirt even ironed?"

Benji just looked at her and sighed resolutely. "Bryn, leave us alone. We have better things to do and places to be." 

A calculated, boasting grin grew on his face. "Besides, I'm sure no one will care about our clothes once we've slain the Valg." 

Benji looked with unbridled satisfaction at his sister and Asterin nearly face palmed. 

The idiot. 

Bryn whipped her head to face her brother. "Valg." Her complexion paled but her façade never faltered. "Why was I not told about this?" she said, swagger rolling off of her tongue as she placed a hand on her hip. "Surely no one would trust you with such a task, you couldn't even handle organizing a couple of simple drapes and dishes. I am heir. If there is trouble I should be the one to take care of it." She refocused her gaze on Benji standing behind Asterin. "Not the spare." 

Asterin felt Benji shrink a little behind her and the painful shock she felt knowing he had to deal with this from everyone everyday hardened. She stilled her movements towards the door. 

He didn't need this. 

She stepped in front of him, forcing Bryn's attention back on her. "Leave him alone Bryn, my mother and your's asked us to take care of it, and I wouldn't suggest contesting those orders." She smirked through the easy lie, "Unless, of course, you'd like to be the one to go tell my mother that she's wrong." She finished her last sentence in the same affected tone that Bryn had adopted, along with her self-entitlement, she thought testily. 

Bryn's throat jumped. She dropped her trademark malicious smile as the jab hit home. Ah, there was the fear. Asterin turned to Benji, "Can you grab me an apple, listening to such an irksome voice is really starving me. Of all my senses," she muttered lowly. Benji smiled at the quip.

"How dare y-" Bryn began to splutter but Asterin turned again, flicking her unbound ivory hair, its artful sweep literally cutting Bryn off. Bryn glared at the blatant dismissal, fire lighting her eyes. Asterin's power leapt in response and she suppressed it quietly, though she was not quite able to keep the steel from her own contrasting irises. Her eyes locked with Bryn's; a silent challenge. Bryn did not back down, but neither did she. 

Bryn sneered. "Well, in the end it just comes down to the simple fact that you can't do this without me, neither of you are strong enough. Benji's too impulsive and your power well…" Bryn glanced at Benji and back to Asterin, contemplatively. 

Asterin's teeth gritted, "Don't you dare, Bryn." 

She smiled innocently at Asterin. Their eyes met and her whole demeanor changed at what she saw. "Of course, I would never say anything Asterin, we have such a rich and long-lasting history I would never dream of causing you any pain."

Asterin's lips drew up in a growl, "you b**** don't act all innocent. It was your fault. It's still your fault."

"Wait, what's going on?" Benji instinctively went to reach out to her but she saw him falter and step back as he took in her expression. 

"Asterin?" Benji intoned confusedly.

Bryn ignored him and continued, "Asterin, I was- I am just trying to help you. I want you to be strong. Trust me, I have your best interests at heart." She smiled unpleasantly. "Always."

Asterin's eyes blazed brighter. As bright as Bryn's fire and she took a threatening step forward. Her voice was dangerously quiet, "Now you listen to me. You will never have my trust. You will never be my friend. And if you dare come after any of my friends ever again," she leaned closer so Benji couldn't hear, "I will make you pay for what you've done and trust me when I say you will regret it."

Bryn took a step back and Asterin felt Benji put a hand softly on her shoulder, his fingers betraying his hesitance. "Come on, we should get out of here, I don't know what this is about but she's not worth it." His tone was heavy. An undercurrent of personal experience and painful memory. Asterin breathed deeply and nodded slowly at him. He was right - she wasn't worth it. 

Benji lead them past Bryn and she watched with a flash of pride as he gave his sister a cold stare that rivaled even her own. She moved instep to follow, taking all of two before she felt Bryn grip her arm. She felt warm breath on her ear, and Bryn's sickly sweet voice sung out in the morning air.

"Say hello to Quinn for me."

A feral snarl ripped from her throat and the world blurred. Asterin struck Bryn across the face, the sharp slap echoing throughout the cavernous room. Bryn hissed, clutching at her reddened cheek, trying to cover the three stinging slices that now ran from cheekbone to chin. Asterin pulled her closer, baring iron teeth, her talons unbound. "You stay away from her, this is your last f****** warning," she spat, "Don't follow us, by the time you've gone and cried to Mummy about how bad your little brother and his friends are we'll be long gone." 

She shoved Bryn, hard, forcing her to stumble backwards, and stalked forward, gripping a shocked Benji's arm. She yanked him away. 

She had to get away from there before she did something stupid. Her power writhed in furious response to the retreat and she winced at the stabbing pain of holding it back. Gritting her teeth she shoved it down; deep, deep down. 

She didn't notice the change of surroundings until she smelt the crisp morning breeze and her feet sink into the soft moss that lined the cobbled courtyard. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, savoring the crisp scent, letting it lift away the anger and resentment. She was broken out of her reverie by a tentative voice beside her.

"Asterin?"

She opened her eyes and found Benji standing next to her, looking at her. She stared and realised that her hand still tightly gripped his arm. She released her clenched fingers. "Benji, I'm so sorry. That got way out of hand," she said softly, "I know she's your sister and everything…"

Benji looked at her quietly. "I don't care that she's my sister, no one has the right to act like that."

He moved his mouth silently for a moment, weighing up his words, but all he did was allow a small smile to creep over his mouth as he looked up at her. "But are you okay?" 

Asterin nodded and took another deep breathe, pushing the events from her mind she drew her lips up in a smile. "Okay. It really is time to hit the road." Her smile grew stronger, "And who knows, maybe you'll save the world, and she'll be forced to eat every single bad word she has ever said about you." 

"About all of us."

She met Benji's golden eyes and saw a grin that matched her own.


	11. Luka Lochan

Luka groaned loudly, a tanned hand resting on his aching stomach. He lazily gazed towards the fiery-haired female who was similarly splayed on the leather couch beside him, stomach groaning beneath her black tunic. Quinn smiled contentedly at him, her teeth tinged purple from the basket of appleberries they'd picked that morning from the bushes surrounding their hideout. Being spring, the brush had been brimming with the sweet, violet berries. His stomach gurgled noisily, its sound echoing off the stone walls. 

He redirected his eyes to the cave wall before him, sighing as the morning sun danced idly over the worn stone. This - this - was truly living. It was certainly a well-deserved break from his usual, grueling morning routine. His eyes shone as he recalled what his siblings were currently doing, all the way back in Perranth: running and bounding through mud and slop to retrieve chicken eggs. A chuckle emerged from his lips. Chicken eggs. In his dazed state, everything seemed absurdly silly. Another thought floated towards him, like a cloud crossing the endless abyss of his sluggish mind. A scarlet fox, bounding nimbly through Terresan's grass-laden fields, its tale ruffling in the spring breeze...

"Hey, Quinn," Luka said giddily, tilting his body towards her, "you know what I just realised?" Quinn fixated one, soft grey eye on him, awakening from her lazy slumber.

"Mmmh, what?"

Luka giggled again. "You know, when you're in fox form - " He burst into a fit of giggles and clenched his full stomach, tears steadily streaming from his eyes. Quinn sat up, looking at him in alarm. She reached a hand out to steady him, to check if he was okay... Luka's laughing intensified. 

"What is it?" Quinn asked, shaking his shoulder, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Oh, she had no idea what he was getting at. He couldn't believe he'd never noticed it before.

"I'VE SEEN YOU NAKED," Luka blurted out. He immediately palmed his mouth, leaning his face into the leather to cover his howls of laughter. For a moment, Quinn stared mindlessly at him, her mouth frowned. Then, rage - along with barely suppressed horror - contorted her features. Luka emerged from the firm cushions to witness, what he was sure, would be a truly hilarious react - 

"You hellion!" she shouted, " Are you telling me, are you really telling me, that you've been prying…you pervert!" She stared at him, her face reddening beneath her multitude of freckles. "I never, never expected this from you - "

"Quinn," Luka interrupted, alarm clouding his features. This was not what he had expected. He thought that she'd stumble a bit, and then come to the logical solution. He did not expect this. "I meant when you're in fox form. You're not wearing any clothes, so, technically, I've seen you naked..." He gave her a small smile, as if to lighten the mood. Gods forbid, she thought he'd been spying on her. Quinn stared at him, her cheeks reddening once again, this time from embarrassment. She turned her head downwards, and took a long, deep breath. Silence filled the cave, interrupted only by the soft baying of the horses in the antechamber and the occasional singsong of the bluebirds outside. 

Finally, Quinn shook her head, the light bouncing off her crimson curls. "You're an idiot, you know that?" Luka smiled meekly. He reached out to the woven basket resting between them, carefully selecting the greatest violet berry. Her keen eyes watched his movements like a hawk.

"Another appleber - "

A bang echoed throughout the cave, bouncing off the stone walls like a grand theatre symphony. The chamber filled with bright, morning light, and Quinn hissed as her vision was temporarily blinded. Luka looked to the entrance of the cave. Persevering through the blinding light, the vines were draped aside and a familiar form was spot lit by the sun, like the Gods themselves would have marked her worthy. Asterin. A swirling wind ruffled her loose hair, shadowed with golden streaks in the sun. She slowly stepped into the cave, Benji holding the ferns aside, followed close behind. Her face was set with a serious expression but her entire body sang with unbound energy. She was clad in black, red and gold witch leathers, a reminder of her heritage. A warrior, but still a girl. After a quick glance back at Benji, he noticed that he was similarly layered, thick, black fighting leathers; Terresan's signature armour. By the Wryd, his heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered through all the possible reasoning as to why they were wearing fighting armour. And this early in the morning. Maybe they'd come back from training? 

"You won't believe what we just discovered," Benji said breathlessly, his hand releasing the canopy as he padded into the cave. His face was flushed, and his chest heaved beneath his heavy armour... as if they'd ran here, all the way from Orynth. Sure enough, Luka glanced behind them, searching to no avail for the familiar silhouettes of Friesian and Shimmer-beans, their stallions. Asterin sauntered towards the couch, her slight panting breath giving away just how far they'd run. She saw him looking and gave him a small grin which he scrambled to return; but her focus had already darted to the near empty bowl. She sighed dramatically before grabbing the food, plopping herself down beside Quinn. He raised an eyebrow at her. What the hell was going on? Asterin gave him a small nod, inclining her silver-haired head towards Benji, who was now standing directly before them. 

"Please," Quinn began, "just tell us directly. Don't be" - she glanced meaningfully towards him - "cryptic about anything you say." She shuddered. "Anything," she repeated. Asterin glanced at her inquisitively, and Luka simply shook his head at the thought. Quinn would definitely tell her later.

"Okay..." Benji said, his body shivering with barely contained excitement. Breathlessly, he recounted a conversation. A discussion between his mother and Asterin's. What they had overheard between their mothers that morning, the Valg, Eyllwe, and finally; how he wanted them to help him defeat the demons. Luka listened actively, Quinn doing the same beside him, both of their bodies tense as Benji detailed the events occurring in the South-East. He side-eyed Asterin, trying to gauge her reaction to these events. but her expression gave no insight. She sat coiled tight on the couch, her silver hair splaying out like a halo behind her as she meticulously used a red-hilted dagger to clean her long nails. He squinted his eyes, was that blood? Gods what else had happened. Every once in a while, she'd raise her head and interrupt Benji as he lost the finer details in his excitement. 

Finally, Benji finished speaking, his hands - which had moments ago been making exuberant gestures - rested, still in his lap. Luka stared at him in disbelief, as his brain began to cross-check the information with the many daring adventures of the cadre. Slowly deciphering the information Benji had relayed to them and what, exactly, it meant. From Quinn's vibrating leg beside him, he assumed she was doing the same thing.

"Valg," Quinn said breathlessly. Her ruby hair stuck up haphazardly as she began to mutter in excitement. "We could hunt them, we could defeat them, we could, we could be - "

"Heroes," Benji finished, a triumphant grin spreading across his golden complexion. Quinn met his eyes, her head nodding. She turned to face Asterin, who slowly lowered her dagger. He saw Asterin shoot Benji a warning look but Benji seemed too excited to realise how he sounded. "We could be heroes," Benji continued, his jaw set absolutely, "and show Bryn, and my mother, and this entire kingdom what we're capable of."

Benji and Quinn glanced to Luka. He had kept silent during the entire conversation. He inclined his head downwards. His eyes danced, unseeing of the image of his khaki pants. Anxious thoughts he disguised, his expression hidden from view by his shadowed hair. He was thinking, trying to figure out what this meant for this group. What this meant for him. He scrunched his forehead in concern.

"Luka?" Asterin inquired softly. "Are you alright?"

"Valg," he said simply, raising his head. He gazed mindlessly at the wall. A shudder ran through his body, and he simply repeated, "Valg." Valg. The species which had cleaved this world in two decades ago. The species his father had told him war stories - stories of how he and his mother had fought side by side to abolish them from the world.

"Yes," Asterin responded smoothly but her eyes held the undercurrents of grim understanding. The others seemed oblivious, caught up in their enthusiasm. Quinn talked rapidly to Benji, her hands wringing tightly in her lap.

"Are you sure we're ready for this?" Luka said, interrupting their frenzied conversation. Did they realise how dangerous this would be? What they'd have to sacrifice? How would they even get away from the castle for weeks - months, even. Gods, Bowie would kill him if he found out that he'd decided to try himself against the Valg. His father would kill him. At the thought of the legendary warrior, Luka gave an audible gulp.

"Luka," Benji said imploringly beside him, his pale hand reaching out to clasp his own, "please. This is my chance." Luka's eyes rose to meet Benji's, his heart breaking at the pure desperation in his gaze. And he stiffened at how often he had seen that expression on his friends face. For Bryn. For Aelin. They had done this. They'd made him think that he was lesser, that he needed to prove himself. He broke his gaze. Torn. Only for his eyes to be drawn to Asterin's. Her mismatched iris's, lightened by the dappled sun, were calm. But unlike the rest of her unreadable face, they were also hopeful.

"Okay," he said at last, inclining his head from Asterin, towards Benji. "Yes, okay." Benji stared into his eyes, his face softening as Luka slowly smiled at him. For them he could do it. And his father... Well, he'd deal with that when it came. For now, the only thing that mattered was the three determined Fae sitting beside him. The three people in this world that truly understood him.

"Right, then," Benji said quickly, before Luka could change his mind. He rolled his eyes. They don't waste any time at all, do they? "We'll set off tonight." Quinn lept off the couch, her eyes blazing in excitement. She raised her hands up, waving them and jumping up and down as she broke into an impromptu victory dance. Luka gulped. Tonight? They wanted to leave tonight? Asterin's subtle nod to Benji confirmed as much. Quinn leaped back onto the leather couch, causing it to deflate slightly. 

"We'll need weapons," she began excitedly, her short figure still wiggling animatedly, "and maps, and clothing, and - "

"Food," Asterin added, "rope, saddles, and water." Benji, Quinn, and Asterin formed a close huddle, constructing a long list of the various supplies they'd need. Luka simply watched them, his mind still catching up to the reality of what was happening. They really wanted to do this. Fight Valg. And he'd agreed. Asterin broke the huddle, her eyes fixating on Luka. 

"Luka," Asterin began softly but demandingly, "we'll need you to collect the maps. The scholars would never suspect you." Her full lips quirked up in a smile. He stared at her, already imagining how the scholars would react when he asked for copies of maps of the entire continent. He was nervous, but nodded his head. If they were going to do this, then... They might as well do it right. As if sensing his reluctance, she caught his arm. "Hey, I know you have your doubts. I do too, but I think this is important. Besides," the corner of her mouth quirked up mischievously, "there's no harm in having a little adventure." She looked at his still torn features, "and if your worried about Bowie. Don't. I'll take the fall for it. If he asks, it was all me." She patted his shoulder and a small smile pulled at his face as she turned back to the rest of their motley crew. 

"We'll meet at the palace gates at sundown," she continued, speaking louder so everyone could hear. "That should be enough time to get our affairs in order." And come up with suitable excuses as to why they were going to disappear for weeks on end, Luka added to himself. Quinn and Benji were tense beside them, the electricity of the adventure they were about to embark upon crackling through the air.

"And remember," Asterin said finally, staring each Quinn's motley grey, Benji's blue ringed with molten gold, and his own chocolate brown eyes in turn. "To be discrete."


	12. Luka Lochan/Lars

By the time Luka finally reached Orynth's tall, opal-clad gates, the sky had deepened to obsidian. The moon cast a light on the great city behind him, illuminating the distant spires of the white castle. Resting in the shade of the city's great gates, concealed by a dark shadow, stood the wiry forms of two teenagers. He was late, so very late. Quinn saw him first, her eyes narrowing as she emerged from the darkness. 

"Do you know how late you are?" she hissed, hooking a stray strand of hair around her ear. "We thought you'd chickened out." Benji slowed one pace behind her, surveying the entrance of the city with keen eyes to ensure no one he recognised had noticed them. Aelin had eyes everywhere. 

"We did not think you'd chickened out," Benji reassured him. "We just got worried - Luka, where were you? We were meant to leave hours ago." 

"The maps," Luka motioned to the leather satchel cradled against his side, "were harder to get than I thought." Upon requesting the maps, the head scholar had spent a whole hour lecturing him of their worth. Prattling one about their scared age and importance, and the consequences he'd face if he damaged or lost them. The only thing that had gotten him out of the great library was his concession that if he wasn't able to take the maps be would have to instead bring his siblings, his whole boisterous family here to their ancient and sacred library to study the maps instead. At that the scholars had practically shoved the rolls of parchment into his hands and thrown him out their doors. 

Benji looked at him understandingly, "The head scholar is an old coot…But you’re here now." Luka could see he was having a hard time wiping the hopeful smile of his face, even now. "Asterin should be back soon too, and then we'll go!" He continued on at Luka's questioning look. " Well when you didn't come back she decided to go stock up our supplies--" As if these words were some mysterious signal Asterin emerged like a wraith from the darkness beside them, as silent as the night surrounding. She nodded at him, a small smile gracing her face. His stomach flopped as she reached a hand out toward him and paused letting it hover in front of him.

"Do you have the map to Erilea?" she asked, voice husky in the gentle darkness. Luka swallowed and nodded unclasping the satchel, placing a hand inside. The papers inside ruffled as he grasped the thickest, oldest map. Dust motes drifted off the coarse paper, and he gave a small cough as he handed the parchment to Asterin. She quickly unrolled it, eyes scanning quickly. Beside her, Quinn eagerly peaked over her shoulder, eyes glinting with excitement. Asterin glanced up at them thoughtfully her hair shifting, like molten quicksilver. 

"We need to head along the coast, towards Meah," she brought a finger to the map, tracing the coast towards the small town - "and then continue downwards, to - " 

"Yeah, downwards, we definitely need to go in that straight direction because as we know the Valg are heading to Eyllwe," Benji interrupted, grabbing the map from Asterin's hands and trailing his hand haphazardly down. As if he was trying to copy her fingers precise path. Asterin nodded at his words.

"Yes, Benji, exactly," she continued, "so we will move downward towards Adar-

"Adarlan," Benji cut in again loudly, "Adarlan."

Luka cringed slightly at the second interruption and Asterin surveyed Benji keenly, pausing before continuing. "Yes, Adarlan would be the perfect place for us to replenish our supplies, but while we are there and when we go through Terresan we'll have to be care-"

"We don't want to be caught," interjected Benji and Luka watched as Asterin's eyes, glowing in the lantern's light, narrowed almost imperceptibly. She was losing her patience but Benji continued obliviously. "You know how upset our parents will be when they find out what we are doing. So we'll have to be careful. Okay well now that's sorted, let's go we've taken too long talking already," he looked around at the three of them with a smile and Quinn slapped a palm across her forehead in defeated frustration.

Asterin rolled her eyes clearly knowing who had wasted most of the time but said nothing in silent agreement. Luka followed her lead and almost laughed as she quickly plucked the map out of Benji's hands and placed the fragile paper carefully into her satchel. Benji opened his mouth to object but closed it again as he realised, no doubt, if he held the map he would have to actually look after it and face the wrath of the librarians if he damaged it. 

He followed Asterin as she strolled back into the shadows, back to the place where they had tied their horses. She mounted Friesian, melding into the surrounding night. Luka quickly mounted, trying not to think of the implications of their hurried and barren plan. Benji and Quinn followed suit, until they sat astride, side by side, the glittering lights or Orynth behind them and the dark, thick forest before them. Luka quickly glanced behind him, ensuring that there was nobody watching them. But the gates were mostly empty, with only a few stragglers plodding into the city. Their laughter and chatter drifted towards them through the cold, crisp night.

Luka's mouth went dry as the night loomed, the forest trees seeming to creep closer, as if encouraging them to enter into their dark, mysterious embrace. They were truly going to do this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lars ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Gods damn you boy, are you even trying?"

Lars grimaced from his spot on the frosty, rock-laden ground. He was in fact trying, but not as hard as he could or probably should be. I mean, what was he supposed to do? Apparently, according to this unnatural being standing in front of him, he'd just released the greatest evil the world had ever known. He closed his eyes slowly. "I am trying. Who did you say you were again?"

The tall, golden eyed demon stared coldly at him. "I am the greatest evil the…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah you already said that. Lars interrupted tiredly, rubbing his temple with his frozen hand, trying to expel the headache budding there. He heard the crunch of fast paced footsteps advancing towards him, and looked back towards the sound. However, before he could register anything, a strong hand gripped the front of his shirt and he was hauled off his feet. His toes slipped on the icy leaves as he stared into the pale stone face gazing down at him. A snarl building in the males' throat, his shadow licking at the ground beneath Lars feet. Fear curled again in Lars' stomach.

"Do not interrupt me." The ancient voice thundered. "I am King Orcus. I have been gracious to you youngling and you dare speak in that tone?" He paused before adding unnaturally sweetly, "All I have done is try to help you," his smile showed disconcertingly white teeth. He dropped Lars' shirt, and Lars scrambled backwards till his back hit the rough bark of a pine tree. His breathing was rapid, sending flurries of mist towards the - well the - ah well he didn't exactly know what it was. It looked as if the Gods had cleaved a hole in the night sky, but the Gods were dead so it was really just an odd oval shape of shimmery darkness. Which for some reason 'Orcus' seemed intent on him…him doing something with…well to be honest, he hadn't really been listening to his instructions.

He'd been too terrified at first; the fear had paralyzed him, stuck him to the floor like a child's tongue to an icicle. But what had emerged had been far more terrifying. Someone who felt too wrong to be a man, someone instinct told him to run the hell away from. A demon king had come through that black tear, and his words, they had scared Lars the most: " You've done a great service to this world. History will remember you."

His throat constricted. What had he done? He didn't understand how this happened, why he was even here. Why had he left his family? He was lucky that this ruler was helping him. So extremely lucky and if he truly was who he said, truly lucky that this demon king wasn't trying to kill him. Yet. Lars' voice hitched as he began to speak, his hands raised in tentative surrender. "I-I'm sorry, I truly am honoured. I'm just a bit confused still, do you think you could maybe repeat the instructions again?"

Orcus's demeanor changed and he smiled again, more graciously this time. Lars stomach relaxed a little. "Why, of course, if you didn't understand you should have said so earlier." He looked calmly at Lars, "Maybe two hours earlier." The threat slipped out like smooth silk and he waved his hand in dismissal. "But no matter. I simply want you to direct your focus to within yourself, draw from the portal to the darkness that lies in all hearts and draw it out. An easy task, really."

Lars would have rolled his eyes if his nervousness hadn't made him gulp. Easy, sure. But he closed his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time and did again what he had been instructed, reaching down into the depths of himself. His mind broke through the barrier of his consciousness, reaching for what was beyond. His body felt weightless; his mind floated. There were emotions that he couldn't quite grasp, scraps of memory and then there was nothing, nothing but a yawning, empty abyss. His mind struggled, recoiling against the hollow darkness, against the unknown, as inky as the portal looming in front of him.

His skin prickled as he reached out and grasped the abyss, pulling it. It flowed like the deepest waters of the ocean up, up, up. 

"Yes boy, yes, keep it there. Concentrate."

He looked down at his hands, starting in surprise at the misty darkness budding there. He looked up into Orcus's twisted face. Looked up and let his power fade, letting it slip through his fingers as something dawned on him. He didn't know this powerful being, this ancient immortal…who looked…like a man. A man who was a stranger and Lars didn't trust him. Not yet.

"I'm sorry," his forehead crinkled in feigned frustration, snowflakes crusting his long lashes, "I can't do this. It's too hard. I'm too tired." 

Orcus huffed in annoyance and glared at him. "I don't have time to waste on your useless excuses. Hurry up, you and your world do not deserve my presence or my leniency after all it has done to my kind."

Lars blinked at the intensity of his words so different to his previous tone. "To your kind?" he inquired confusedly.

The king looked at him, his eyes glinting oddly in the moonlight. "Valg, boy." He bared his teeth as his lips turned up in a twisted smile.

A shiver shot through his spin and Lars jumped to his feet, backing away quickly. Every instinct in his body told him to run. Valg. Those were the people who had waged war on their world decades ago. That had been banished. Shut out from this world. Trapped. His breath came in pants as fear again clouded his gold-flecked eyes. "What? But you're- you're evil. You- you tried to destroy our world. Why would I ever help you?" His movements grew frantic. "Please don't hurt me, let me leave. Let me go home."

Orcus advanced on him again, until he was backed against a snow laden tree, his taunt spine pressed painfully against a sharp branch. "Don't beg to me boy. You are weak. That will be remedied. Besides I have done nothing. Not yet. It was my brother. Erawan was a mistake. He was too arrogant, too reckless. He let his ambition subsume all reason. But he did his job. She's dead, and now I'm free."

He tried to shuffle his feet away but Orcus's gaze pinned his body to the tree as he continued to speak in a soft steely voice, "I am here not as a destroyer like my brother, but as a saviour. See I may have told you before that I am this world's greatest threat. But boy, I am also the world's greatest chance at survival. There is no light left here, so now the darkness must come to save this world from unending destruction."

Orcus looked away but Lars remained standing exactly where he was. He didn't run. Stupid. Stupid, his heart whispered. But his mind clawed with unanswered questions, seizing him with the desire to know.

But know what?

He braced a steadying hand on the tree beside him. "Why? Why me?" he breathed, his voice growing in strength, "why me, I am nothing; no one, I'm the son of a fisherman." At that Orcus's eyes narrowed but he continued, "sure I have a little magic but I'm not great, I'm not extraordinary and I don't know you. The last I heard, the Valg were, no offense, the spawn of the damned. But here you are claiming the opposite." He ran a hand through his charcoal hair, as if he could brush away all the thoughts jumbling in his brain. "So, why? why me?"

Orcus walked forward and he felt a smooth hand grip his shoulder, "Because, boy, I chose you. You are my champion." He let the hand guide him away from the clearing further into the windswept brush. Away from the tear. Away from the fear. Away.


	13. Luka Lochan/Asterin BlackBeak-Havilliard

Leaves and twigs crunched beneath Juniper's hooves as Luka slowly steered her through the forest. He sunk into the saddle beneath him, sighing at the leather's soft embrace. Afternoon light poured through the canopy above him, illuminating the silver, red, and golden hair of his fellow companions. For six days, they'd travelled through the silent forest, halting only to relieve themselves or gather their bearings. Beside him, Benji shifted in his saddle, his shoulders hunched forwards in fatigue. They were driving a hard pace to put as much distance between Orynth and themselves, and it was taking its toll; he felt like he hadn't slept in forever. 

"Hey, Asterin," Luka called, his voice carrying to where Asterin and Quinn rode ahead. He'd been watching Asterin's back the entire morning, observing the effortless way she moved in the saddle and the easy way she conversed with Quinn. Asterin turned, her face still alight with remnants of laughter as Quinn jovially elbowed her in the stomach. They'd decided to ride in a two-by-two formation, Asterin and Quinn in the front and Benji and him guarding the rear. Although, looking at Benji, it didn't seem like they would be much use if they did indeed have to defend.

"You called," Asterin replied, flicking her long hair, her jet-black stallion whinnying as she brought him to a halt. Beside him, Benji jolted upwards as if he'd been about to fall asleep, his eyes widening in surprise at the sudden noise. For a moment, Luka let himself imagine what he would be doing if he wasn't stuck in the middle of a forest. Probably trying to balance a hot tray of fresh cookies as he tramped his way into the library, cosy and quiet except for a single figure awake at its centre till all hours of the morning. He would burst into her little bubble and Asterin would smile at him, he had baked her favourite, chocolate chi---

"Luka?" 

"I think we should take a break, camp out for the night," Luka huffed out, colour blooming on his cheeks. He mentally cursing himself to the highest towers of hell. Pull yourself together, you loser. 

He buried the useless thoughts deep down. Regaining the thread of the conversation, he looked at her imploringly, slightly inclining his head towards Benji beside him, who was once again sinking into his saddle. She returned his look with one of skepticism, a silver-brow raised as she grabbed the map from the satchel hanging at her side. Her calculating eyes quickly scanned their course, Quinn peeking over he shoulder. 

Asterin looked at him, at Benji, then Quinn. Quinn's eyes were furrowed as she inspected the decaying paper, "If we keep going, we can reach the border before nightfall tomorrow," she said. 

"I know you're tired." Asterin consoled, nodding at Quinn's words. Luka once again glanced at Benji, slumped in his saddle and felt his own body ache with the continued stress of riding. If they didn't get rest soon, they both were going to fall right out of their saddles. He looked pointedly at Quinn, who gave a weary sigh before placing a calloused hand on Asterin's shoulder.

"Asterin," she sighed, "I think he's right. Let's just camp out for the night." She slipped off her horse, flaming hair a cape behind her. Asterin looked at Benji and sighed before giving a small nod. 

"Alright," she said, dismounting her black stallion with ease, "Quinn and I'll set up camp. You and Benji can go find us something to eat; I'm starving." She padded to the back of Quinn's horse, where the packs were still tied. Luka quickly scanned his environment, taking in the layers of dark, thick foliage. Very well then. They should be able to find some edible mushrooms or berries in these woods. He turned to Benji, who gave him a small smile, his eyes fighting fatigue. Benji wasn't used to travelling.

"Let's go," Luka exhaled, "I'll head east, you move west... We'll see what we can find." 

"No," Benji said sharply, his eyes coming into focus. His face reddened at his sudden outburst. "Let's go together." His eyes darted around the woods, focusing on the darkness lurking between the foliage and the deepening sky above them. If Luka didn't know any better, he'd say his friend was afraid. 

"Alright," he conceded, motioning to his left, where the trees were thinner and the grass lusher. "Let's go." They rode through the woods without exchanging a word, the crashing of their horses' hooves painfully loud in their silence. Benji, suddenly excited at the prospect of dinner, took the lead, the nape of his neck exposed to the afternoon chill. They probably had an hour before the sun set; they'd have to find food soon. They'd largely underestimated how long the cakes and loaves of bread they'd stolen from the palace kitchens would last. Benji's pace quickened ahead of him, his shoulders inclined forwards. What the hell was his problem?

"Hey. Benji," Luka called as the male's golden hair faded into the distance. "Slow down!" he shouted, nudging his heel into Juniper's flank as he took after Benji. The wind ruffled his hair and then he smelt it the acrid smell of blistered corn. Cornpop, he thought bewilderedly as his mare trampled through the darkening forest.

The trees opened into a great, circular clearing. As they'd been riding, the sky had darkened to obsidian. Bright, twinkling stars illuminated the endless sky above him. As Luka broke through the tree line, he saw Benji, splayed in the grass, his stallion grazing beside him on... 

Luka squinted, in utter disbelief at what he was seeing. Benji gave a loud laugh, angling his body towards him. "Come on, Luka!" he yelled gleefully, flopping back down onto the grass. Surrounding Benji's body, covering ever corner of the clearing, were bright, pink mushrooms. They were barely three inches high, just sticking up through the long, spindles of grass. Their pink gleam as imposing as their smell. It seemed to pulsate up through their stems to their tops. Luka laughed, sliding off of his saddle and onto the cushioned ground. Fireflies flew in and out of the field, their glow as golden as the male splayed in the grass amongst them. 

Carefully, he padded through the field, the ground beneath him sinking with every step. A pink, mushy ooze splayed out beneath his feet and Luka winced. Wherever the gooey substance touched his pants, shirt, and skin it dyed it a deep pink. The stuff got everywhere. How were they meant to creep undetected through the forest if they were two, bright pink beacons. Hell - what was Asterin going to think? Something told him she would not be impressed by his pink stained skin. Finally, he reached Benji. His friend's eyes were closed, as if he were sleeping, his thick eyelashes falling delicately over the ends of his eyelids. He must've felt his presence, because he raised a weary eyelid as Luka stepped before him.

"I'm never leaving this place," he sighed, a stray firefly landing on a strand of his golden hair. Luka just stared at him, grinning. The sight truly was something to behold: Benji, splayed across the grass, his hair dyed deep pink like some sort of witch. He kneeled down next to Benji's head and poked a tall, plump mushroom with a long finger, cringing in barely vailed disgust as liquid exploded over his hand. 

"Do you think they're edible?" Luka asked, grimacing, suddenly aware of his own empty stomach. 

Benji propped himself up his elbows. "Only one way to find out," he replied, and licked the gooey substance covering his own fingers. 

Luka started, "Benji! It could be poisonous!" The mushrooms might have smelled nice - like cornpop, to be precise - but that didn't mean that they weren't dangerous. Many horrid things in this world were disguised by beauty. He shoved Benji's shoulder, but his friend simply grinned at him. Luka watched in disgust as Benji slowly swallowed the thick liquid. 

"Is it any good?" he asked, his gleaming eyes watching Benji. Benji sat still for a moment, before sitting up, a greedy expression on his face. A grin emerged upon his face, and dived face-first into the mushrooms, his strong arms moving furiously as he shoved pink mushrooms into his arms and mouth as quickly as he could. 

"Oh yeah," he replied between mouthfuls, "it's good."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asterin Blackbeak Havilliard, heir to two of the greatest empires in Erilea, had no idea what to do. She stared at the map, at its long, overlapping lines and mountain peaks, and was at a complete and utter loss. They could cut across the coast, towards Meah, but... That would leave them exposed, vulnerable to unwelcome eyes. If they stuck inland, though, they'd pass dangerously close to Perranth, and with Luka's horde of siblings running around and always sticking their noses where they definitely shouldn't be, they'd probably be discovered within minutes of coming within five miles of the manor house. She sighed, bringing her fingers to her temple. Quinn had tied the horses and she'd managed to start a fire when Benji and Luka first took off to scavenge, but what were once wild flames were now just smoldering logs. And, of course, staring into the deep, glow yielded nothing. There was absolutely nothing in this big, empty woods that could possibly help her.

"Hey, Asterin, you won't believe this," Quinn said, sauntering over towards her, a bunch of nuts clutched in her hands. "There's macadamia trees everywhere in this place. Benji and Luka are such idiots." Asterin slowly folded the map, the parchment coarse beneath her skin. At her wayward expression, Quinn's grey eyes narrowed in concern. She gently tossed the bundle of rounded, browning nuts on the ground, taking a seat on the ground beside her. 

"What's up?" she said, plucking the map from her lap. Quinn quickly scanned the route Asterin had plotted the night before, her brow furrowed. Asterin glanced at her, pulling at the cuffs of her leathers. She wasn't going to say anything to Quinn, she couldn't. They'd trusted her with this task and she couldn't let them down. Why was this so hard, she'd read thousands of books, studied thousands of artworks and yes, maps. But she just couldn't seem to visualise where she was and correspond it with the map.

"You know," Quinn began slowly snapping her put of her thoughts, her pale finger cutting a line from their current to the border, "if we stick just a little inland, just away from the coast, we could probably avoid the fishing villages and remain an acceptable distance from Perranth. The woods open up around here" - she motioned to a position on the map a couple of miles away from the border - "but so long as we pass though the grasslands, we should be able to make it to Meah undetected." 

Asterin stared at her. She'd known that Quinn enjoyed studying the continent in her spare time, but she'd never thought that pouring over a few maps would allow her sense of direction to become this canny. Especially since Lysandra and Aedion made her stay at Carraverre most of the time, greeting foreign Lords and helping care for the manor. They were far too protective, if she was being honest. The only time Quinn had gotten out was when Aunt Evangeline had smuggled her and Quinn out for some adventures in the travelling troupe. But still, even that was just in the grasslands. How had she missed it? It was the obvious course to take. Quinn shifted uneasily on the log, as if Asterin's gaze was cutting right through her.

"Asterin, you're staring at me."

"What?" she snapped. "Oh, right, sorry. I didn't realise." Quinn looked like she was about to speak, but paused. Asterin gave her an innocent sideways glance. "Listen," Asterin said slowly, placing a hand casually on Quinn's shoulder, "I think you should look after these." She reached into her satchel and clasped the several rolls of parchment which had laid there for the past few days. 

Quinn looked at her with disbelief, slowly taking the maps from her hands. "Are you serious?" she asked, her hands resting on the pieces of thick paper.

"Of course, we all know maps are your specialty. Besides, do you really think I could trust one of the boys to not accidentally drop them in a lake?" Asterin winked at her and Quinn smiled, dimples appearing in the corners of her mouth as she grabbed the maps, knocking Asterin's satchel rather violently to the floor in the process. Something clinked in her satchel and she withdrew her arm from Quinn to again reach in. Something pricked her fingers and she withdrew her hand sharply to see it covered in steely liquid. Her eyes widened and she whipped her head towards Quinn who was luckily distractedly pouring over the map. She let out a small breath and wiped her fingers on her pants before reaching back in and feeling around. Glass bit at her palms but she ignored it as she sorted through. There should be 5, there should be 5 damn flasks in here. Her hand closed around a small orb like container and her chest tightened. There was one. Only 1 left. 

Well this as going to be interesting…

Asterin withdrew her arm, ignoring the shattered glass in her bag, ignoring the thoughts that raged through her head and ignoring what this could mean. She huddled closer to the warm embrace of the fire which had now reduced only to some measly coals. The sun had fallen hours ago; the twinkling stars above her clearly illuminated the Lord of the North. Where the hell were Luka and Benji? If they'd gotten lost, by the stars she was going to throttle them. They weren't even out of Terresan yet.

Asterin squinted. In the dim glow of the fire she could just make out a pinky, red shadow in the distance. Beside her, Quinn stiffened, agile fingers reaching for the dagger still nestled in her tunic from their 'fight' days ago. The forest rustled as the shape came closer. Her nose flared but her senses were drowned by a pungent sickly scent, no trace of Benji or Luka's scents. 

"Asterin," Quinn said uneasily, rising and positioning her feet in a defensive stance. "What the hell is that?" 

Asterin shook her head. She'd known the forest was enchanted, that in the years after Erawan's defeat the little folk had re-emerged in full force, but she'd never heard of them being quite so large. She picked up her bow from where it had been resting on the hard ground, quickly dusting the dirt off it as she deftly nocked a steel-capped arrow. The string groaned as she drew it back to her cheek, her steady hands grasping the wooden handle. She never missed. Today would be no exception. 

"Wait!" Quinn said loudly, raising a hand to push Asterin's bow down. She gave a muffled laugh. "It's just Luka and Benji." What? Asterin gazed through the darkness, and, sure enough, what she'd thought to be something sinister was simply two, lanky teenagers covered in...

"What is that?" Asterin exclaimed wrinkling her nose. The fair-haired males were covered head to toe in a pink, luminescent liquid. It stuck to their pants, their horses, and their hair. In their arms they held bundles of tall, plump pink mushrooms, some of the gooey liquid seeping out beneath them.

Benji made it to the fire first, an expression of utmost importance on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, his tongue unnaturally vibrant. 

"You ladies better be eternally grateful because we just found you the greatest meal you'll ever eat in your life." Asterin just stared at him, a smile growing on her face as Luka walked to join him.

"You know," she said with a wink, striding over too them, "I think pink's your colour." Benji grinned at her and she could have sworn she saw Luka's cheeks flush an even deeper pink but it may have just been a trick of the flickering light. Quinn facepalmed her freckled forehead, before raising her head in acceptance. 

"What the hell," Quinn said, bounding over to where she stood. Still seemingly befuddled by the boys appearance and the insinuation that they were actually going to eat those strange mushrooms. But Asterin knew Quinn was not one to would back from a challenge, especially if Benji had set. Those two going head to head was always an experience. Asterin raised her eyebrows and smirked at Benji,

"By the wyrd give me some of your stupid pink mushrooms."


	14. Lars

It had been over a week since Lars had first met the demon or the King or Orcus or whatever he was, and he was still just as confused as to what he was doing, why he was here and where they even were. And gods damn was he getting tired of being confused. He'd spent the last week pretending he couldn't summon the mists of darkness, the King becoming progressively more despondent every time he failed, that by the end when he actually had tried, nothing had happened. Almost as if magic had gotten fed up with him, too. He didn't blame it. He had a growing annoyance for himself too.

"Get up, boy."

He started from his spot on the rough ground, the late afternoon sun that barely managed to pierce through the foliage warming his skin ever so slightly. He exhaled heavily through his nose. He hadn't seen a single human being in at least a month. He'd been hoping they would pass a town for at least a week now, but the King seemed intent on keeping them away, following some invisible path that Lars could not detect. Or was not advanced enough to know. The King glared at him blankly.

"You're wasting my time."

Lars had the intelligence to smother his eye roll but couldn't keep the bite from his words, "You know I have been trying the same thing for over a week. Has it even crossed your brilliant mind that it might not be the student who's the problem?"

Lars waited for a reaction on the King's face, but there was nothing but slight cold distaste. "You cannot expect results if you do not try. Perhaps I should give you some space. Some alone time to clear your head. Re-center your priorities." The King picked a frozen bloom from one of the icy bushes tangling the corners of the clearing and threw it at Lars feet. "Since you seem to be going no where with darkness, wither this and I'll return," the King's lips pulled up in a sharp smile, "but with your current attitude I hope you enjoy long nights alone in the dark woods."

Before Lars could even open his mouth to retort, to say anything, the King was gone. Melting into the forest around. He punched the ground with a fist, bones smarting as ice crunched. He yelled a curse into the trees where the King had disappeared. But his anger was only to hide the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

No. 

Orcus couldn't leave him in the forest. Alone. He would come back. He had too. Right. The King would return if he did the magic. If he killed the bloom. He looked at the flower on the sludge laden ground with increased intensity and reached down to pick it up. Cold leeched into the tips of his fingers as he grasped it's stem and lifted it too his face. It was beautiful, despite the slumber winter had laid upon it. A muted red centre that bled smoothly into the luminescent blue of it's petals, a vibrancy he would have to drain, drop by drop, until none of that life remained.

He hated that thought, to snuff out something so beautiful. They had Meridian flowers in Banjali, where his family lived his whole life, small and ruffled like little pale blue waves crested with sea foam. They had covered the trees leading to the shore forming a path like a carpet of brine and when the winter came they fell like gulls diving to the sky, shriveled and grey like the winds. It was like that, he told himself, just like the changing of seasons.

He gripped the flower tighter. His skin prickled as a shadow passed over his head and the forest rustled around him, the frosted leaves whispering past one another. But he forced himself to close his eyes and focus. Focus on the icy winds that rushed to Banjali from the South-East, the bleakness they brought, fire-light soft in windows but trees bare and sea raging in the night. Magic flowed from his hands and the air filled with the smell of salt and deep, he cracked an eye and almost cried. Instead he loosed a yell in angered frustration. No no no! While the flower in his hand remained in perfect condition, tendrils of darkness now curled around the clearing, rising and falling like wind. The magic mocked him. His magic, Orcus has insisted and he laughed a little, at the presumed ownership so wrongly placed in his hands. 

He crushed the bloom in his palm, scattering its petals on the snow. He would've loved to believe he'd done it out of spite, out of rebellion to the demon. But it was with desperate eyes that he walked the perimeter of his dark conjuring. Technically he had destroyed the flower. Right? That had to be enough. It had to be enough.

He continued pacing. No King appeared. No person walked through the trees, no bird sang. Shadows grew longer around him and snow darkened to slate. He could not tell when his magic had faded as the darkness seemed to close around him, the faint sunlight from the canopy becoming hot coals, the murmurs of leaves becoming the hiss of smoke.

The golden haired woman from a week ago lay before him, bleeding, naked, an older woman was standing with her back too him over a brazier of smoldering coals. The golden haired woman was pleading he couldn't hear what she was saying but she was begging. Begging the older woman for something. But than the other woman turned and his heart dropped from his chest, in her hand was a branding iron. She advanced on the golden haired woman the iron tight in her hand, snarl unforgiving.

The golden haired woman stared at the older woman with resolve and when she laid the iron upon her abdomen she did not scream, she did not cry. U. He felt faint. N. The older woman had such icy fury on her face. C. He reached to stop the woman but his hand was stopped. L. The golden haired woman's gaze was fixed only on the coals, on the flames, on something he couldn't see reduced to ash by their fury. E. A bone snapped beyond his vision. A. He pounded on the barrier, screaming at the woman to stop, but she didn't. N.

UNCLEAN.

The words flashed violently bright in his vision and he started back, ramming straight into a tree. His knees buckled as he slid into the snow, shaking. But the King was true to his word and had not returned. Even though Lars was sure he'd been screaming. His throat raw he curled into a ball next to the tree trying to shelter himself from the whispers and blackness of the woods. And as he desperately waited for the King, for anyone, a hollowness began to grow inside him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a stalking gait he charged a path through the forest. In his wake he left darkness, the light of the world shrinking from him. The animals fled before him, the foliage withered around him and as he stood over a slumped paling figure, he stole too the scream issued beneath him. 

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Lars jumped awake with a start shoving away the blackness of dreaming that he had begun to fear. He back barked in pain as he as he rammed unsteadily against the tree. He was curled in against a tree, pathetically using its meagre roots and roughened trunk as shelter. 

He turned his head to the clearing palms up, scattering the petals he had clutched fiercely in his hand as he waited for Orcus to come back. Above him stood a well-built man his ears were rounded but his stance was unnervingly still as he surveyed Lars' sprawled figure. Judging whether it was wise to stand or approach the stranger whose brown hair trailed down his back in a thin plait, Lars surveyed the mans face. His had slight wrinkles around the tips of his mouth and eyes whose piercing attention drifted from his face to the flower. The small smile faded. 

"You sleep at great length for someone who is afraid of the dark."

Lars shivered. He has not always been afraid of the dark. It was a fear, recent and creeping and he could not help his flickering eyes as he once again looked for the shadowy demon whom the fear inextricably stemmed from. "Who are you?" He tried to clear his head of the shadows, he must have slept for quite a while to be that woozy. Shaking his head slightly the person never moved.

"Perhaps you would prefer to remain alone."

Wrong. But perhaps the company of this unnerving stranger was not much better. The stranger stepped back and the darkness in his head subsided a little. He stood and met the eyes of the man. They shone golden. 

This was not a man.

"It seems you have failed once again." The cold voice of the figure drove away the rest of the darkness in his mind. 

"What the heck happened to your body?!" Lars tried to match the voice of the King, the obsidian figure who was as harsh as the stone itself. But that was not the body in front of him. And yet, those eyes.

"The other one was withering."

"Wait, so you…what? Grabbed another through the portal?"

"I 'grabbed' another one. As you so call it. From a nearby village."

Lars kicked his foot into the dirt, in shock, frustration…terror. He didn't know. "You…possessed him?"

"Yes, I liked this one," The King flexed the muscles of the body. His body. Before draping his hair over one shoulder, admiring its length. Orcus surveyed him and his smile was not something human, as the demon said. "The others were, however, enjoyable."

Lars didn't know if he'd said it to taunt him or perhaps to warn him, a reminder of his power. His ability as King to bend the world to his knee, one body at a time, it shook Lars and an inner voice cried out to him as it had on the first day they'd met. Run, Run, Run. He stood still looking at the monster he had brought into this world. At the body whose soul, obliterated or perhaps eaten, resided in its body no longer. And, as he stood still, the weight upon his shoulder grew heavier. 

He had thought he had been abandoned, but he had been betrayed. 

"You told me you were here to protect us! You call that protection. What sort of saviour kills another person and takes control of their body. You’re a parasite. And you promised. You promised that you wouldn't hurt anyone!"

The King just looked at him like he was a pitiful child who just painted on a wall, voice like steely midnight. "I made NO such promise." The King raised his chin higher, glaring at him with a look that made his very bones quiver, "these humans have poisoned you with the lies of love and kindness. You are naïve and I'm afraid you have not met my expectations."

Though his legs begged his knees to give as waring emotions shot through him, but rage so unknown to his calm heart trickled through his mind as his voice raised to an uncontrolled shout. "What the wyrd is that supposed to mean. I have not met your expectations. I don't even know what they are. I hate this. I hate feeling like a failure. I hate that you always make me feel like a failure."

He wrung his hands tightly, "I'm s*** at everything you have asked me to do. You haven't told me anything. You keep saying I'm not trying hard enough, but I don't even know what I'm meant to be trying for!" He finished and took a deep breath a hand braced on the tree beside, looking for any expression on the King's face, any answer to his questions. 

Orcus began to advance on him slowly and spoke in a voice as quiet and commanding as death. "You are trying for the humans you claim as your own."   
  
The demon leaned in closer "Or perhaps, you are trying because you are anger and suffering and darkness, and you always have been. The darkness calls to you boy and you called back."  
  
Lars could feel his anger backed by fear like a bubbling fire pushing away at the darkness. "You are the darkness," he spat hatefully, "Not me."  
  
The King chuckled, receding towards the shadowed trees. "You don't hate me. You hate the idea that you are like me."   
  
The flames tearing through his blood vanished. Leaving behind only a curling sliver of dread as he failed. Tried and failed, to deny those words. "But you left me. You don't just leave people."

"What boy."

He locked eyes with Orcus and said in a stronger voice. "You left me."

The King paused slightly, questioningly at the words, but responded in a steady voice, void of caring, "you left first boy, you always do."

He stumbled over the words. Had he heard wrong? "What." He hadn't left.

The King's lips curved up into a cruel smile, those laugh lines crinkling unearthly. "Ask your families."


	15. Quinn Ashryver

Quinn shivered, the perilous wind whipping her auburn hair across her face. Beside her, as they trudged along the worn, beaten track, Luka was quivering like a leaf, his tanned skin betraying his sensitivity to the cold. Above them, tendrils of dusk whirled, the clouds darkening to a thick, merciless grey. Silence descended upon the world, the usual woodland animals having retreated to their deep burrows and buried homes. A storm was brewing.

"Asterin - there." Quinn raised a pointed finger to a small alcove carved into the rockface beside them. The last couple of days, the forest had thinned until it was replaced with deep, perilous gullies. Gullies which - just like the dense trees they'd trudged through the last few weeks - held their own demons, hidden not in the woodwork, but in the cracks between rocks and sharp, granite peaks. The cave peaked out, a monster's winking eye, kindly providing shelter from the ruthless beast above.

Asterin nodded, her eyes scanning the cliff-face beside them. There was a cave about fifty feet up, its entrance wide enough to fit the horses and themselves. For a human, the climb may have been deadly, but for a fae - for a fae, it was child's play. Slowly, the dismounted riders guided their horses, rock crumbling beneath strong, hard hooves and pebbles scattering under careful feet, up the steep slope and towards the gaping hole in the landscape. 

It's entrance was so much larger, its chamber so much bigger than their hideout in Terresan. The walls stretched up so high that it was impossible to discern the ceiling above. As Quinn padded into its shadowed embrace, an involuntary shiver coursed down her spine. This was an ancient place - a place where centuries of weary travellers had taken the night to rest from their travels. The charcoal and scorch marks spread across the stone indicated as much. 

"This place is so cool," Benji intoned loudly, his voice echoing off the granite walls. Their horses' hooves clacked against the worn, weathered stone as they came to an abrupt stop. 

Quinn slipped off Atlas' soft back, landing loudly on the cave floor. She tossed her leather satchel towards the cave wall, already forgotten as she unrolled the map to plan their next move. Just because they had to camp out for the night didn't mean that she couldn't be productive. She brought a finger to the crinkled parchment, tracing their journey. They were so close - so freaking close to Meah. They'd crossed the border into Adarlan yesterday, her heart skipping a beat as they passed the sacred, swirling rock which marked the entrance to Terresan. If this storm hadn't struck, they might've been able to make it to Meah before nightfall.

"Alrighty, I am going to check this place out," Benji announced, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Quinn nodded, waving a hand in his direction, not bothering to turn her head as she heard his footsteps fade into the back of the cave. Luka plopped down beside her on the cold floor, his forehead saturated with sweat from the contrast of the chill and the humidity of the storm.

"We're just going to let him walk into the back of a strange cave?" Luka enquired, worry painted across his face. Quinn looked up from the map in her lap, an auburn eyebrow raised. 

"I'm certainly not going after him, but I understand if you feel the need to honour your bromance - " She didn't give a crap what Benji did, so long as he didn't manage to get them all killed. But Luka - Luka always seemed to worry for the golden-haired male. 

"Shut up," he growled, turning towards the dark, stone walls, his face flushed. Gods, he was so sensitive sometimes. You'd think that, growing up with six siblings, he'd have thicker skin. Lightning flashed across the cave's entrance, illuminating Asterin's figure. Her platinum hair billowed in the wind as she patted down Friesian, face shadowed by the gloom of the cave.

"I'm going to go get wood - It's freezing in here," she said, her voice muffled by the increasing winds. Quinn looked up sharply. Asterin's senses were the keenest, her fighting leathers the thickest, but... It was a freaking hurricane out there. Quinn had no doubt that Asterin could handle herself, but, still, it was dangerous. Luka seemed to reflect her feelings, his brown eyes widening in concern.

"I'll come with you," he quickly interjected, jumping off the ground. He reached for his satchel, but Asterin cut him off.

"No," she said, eyes swirling, "stay here. Help Quinn set up for the night." Quinn nodded but her eyes strayed to the leather satchel hanging from Asterin's hand. It was hard to make out in the shadows, but the satchel seemed to have been stained a deep grey, as if something had smashed inside. She looked at Asterin but her questioning eyes met those of steel. 

"I'll be back soon," Asterin said, spinning on her heel and wandering into the cool, moonless night. Forked lightening once again slashed across the sky, but Asterin's figure was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she just needed some space; Quinn knew that tensions were high and the road had them snapping at each other more than usual. It was draining and she hated when people fought, but hopefully they would all be in better spirits once the fire was lit and they'd filled their stomachs. If not, she would have to crack out the ghost stories.

As if in retaliation to her spirited plan, Quinn turned towards where Luka was standing, a grim expression squarely placed over his tired features. His tawny eyes traced the outline of the cave's entrance, as if willing the silver-haired witch to return. Quinn huffed. Gods, these males. Deciding that setting up bedrolls would require too much communication with sappy teenagers, she reached into her satchel, grabbing for the stray macadamia nuts and the book Asterin would have sneaked in for her. She heard Benji return from his little adventure and strike up a conversation with Luka. Their laughter, between the groans of thunder and flashes of lightening drifted over to her from where she leaned against a stalagmite, buried in the book. 

"Yo, Quinn," Benji said finally between fits of laughter, "where's Asterin?" Quinn gently leafed her page, closing the thick volume. It was a good question. Surely it didn't take this long to collect firewood? 

She began to respond, but was interrupted by a rain-muted, husky voice. "Here," Asterin said from the cave entrance, water-sodden logs cradled in her strong arms. 

"Asterin!" Luka exclaimed, rising from his position beside Benji with a start, "You're soaking, let me help - " 

Asterin stalked up to him, the stern look on her pale face morphing into a faint smile as he fumbled her bedroll blanket over her shoulders. Quinn watched bemusedly as the young witch rather matter-of-factly dumped the dripping logs at his feet, and ordered him and Benji to start a fire. Luka nodded and quickly collected the logs. Benji silently lounged on the ground, seemingly content to watch Luka set up the fire himself, before a withering glance from Asterin had the fae teen quickly constructing a tepee for the flames. Satisfied, she strode over to Quinn, plopping down on the cold floor beside her. She flung her head back against the stalagmite, a small sigh releasing from her lips.

"Okay, what is it?" Quinn angled her body towards her friend. "You've had your RWF on all day." Asterin raised an eyebrow, confusion spreading across her face.

"My what?"

"Your Resting Witch Face," Quinn replied promptly, a small smile on her red lips. Asterin huffed a laugh and her previously tense face softened a little. Maybe she would be able to hold out on the ghost stories after all. 

"What's our next move," she asked, her head inclined to the map sprawled at her feet. Quinn scooped the map up, thankful for the merrier mood, her nail tracing the last few yards until they reached their destination. She quickly detailed the route they should take, the forests and taverns which they should definitely avoid. Asterin nodded in confirmation but her eyes were not completely focused. What was up with her? "Nice," she said, "you've got a real - uh - hang for this. Look, I'm going to call it a night, get some sle - "

"Woah! Now that is what I call fire!" Quinn's eyes snapped to where Benji had yelled from the middle of the cave. He was jumping enthusiastically through puffs of heavy smoke and shouting at the ceiling listening as it echoed back. Luka chuckled beside him but Asterin pushed off the stalagmite so quickly she almost missed it. 

"Benji, shut up! You have no idea what could be lurking around. Are you trying to attract unnecessary attention!" Benji ignored her, and quickly began running circles around the dim, yellow flames. His hair shone vibrantly, giving him the visage of a fiery angel. A fiery angel which was majorly, majorly pissing an already tired Asterin off. "Benji!" she repeated. He ran up to where they were, a grin emerging on his face.

"Look," he said, plucking the map from Quinn's grasp and she growled a warning at him. "You have to loosen up! Put your mind at rest" - he quickly folded the map - "and have some fun!" Quinn's eyes were wholly focused on the map, to where Benji was flinging it around above his head. It was one thing to taunt them, to make a racket... But now, he'd crossed the line. He'd crossed the freakin' line. Did he not realise how precious that map was, how much effort Luka had to go to, to get it!?

"Benji," she said, her voice soft but angry, "Give me my map back. Right. Now." Benji looked at her for a moment, his bottom lip stiffening in rebellion. 

"No."

Quinn's upper lip curled. "What did you just say?"

"No," he repeated, slowly stepping away from her. He raised the map above his head, far from where her short frame could reach. She stood up, slowly stalking towards him. "I'm not giving it back until you guys loosen up! This trip was meant to be fun, an adventure. And you guys are being boring!" 

He wanted fun - he freakin' wanted fun? They were trying to save lives here. Beside her, Asterin stiffened, her eyes angry. But, Benji seemed to be oblivious to the gravity of the situation, prancing round the swirling fire like an entitled prince, their precious map held above his head. 

"Uh, Benji," Luka warned as Benji's hand neared dangerously close to the yellow flames. Benji swivelled around to face Luka, his hand lowering as he faced the tawny-haired male. Lowering right into the swirling flames he was standing directly before. The aged parchment lit at once, the ancient ink colouring the flames a deep purple.

"Yeah, Luka, what is it?" Luka's face turned pale and he lunged into action, hand reaching, fingers outstretched, as fire whirled around Benji's hand. Benji looked down, following Luka's gaze to where the paper, blackened and sagging, crumbled in his fingers.

"Oh, s**t."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn looked to where the scorched, sodden remains of the Erilean map laid before her, staring at them as if her gaze could reverse the damage. Asterin shook her head as if she could shake some sense or understanding into it. She tried, and failed, to smile. 

Luka withdrew his hand, eyebrows furrowed in painful solidarity. None of them could quite believe what had just happened, and the horrified silence was interlaced with an absurd shock as he whispered into the silence, "You know, I always imagined dying peacefully at an old age, but it seems that death by angry scholar is becoming far more likely." 

Quinn nodded, a snort exhaling from her nose, but she still looked grim, a piece of blackened parchment crumbling between her fingers. As soon as Benji had realised what happened, he'd ran into the viscous storm, hoping the pouring rain would stifle the flames... But, it was already too late. The male had taken one look at Asterin's face before retreating to the entrance of the cave and the night beyond. Centuries worth of information, of ancient paths and carefully detailed mountain ranges... Gone. Just like that. The map had survived the Great War, Adarlan's rule, only to be finally destroyed by an idiotic seventeen year old. 

Asterin shook her head, her eyes gleaming in the fire's warm light. "What are we going to do?"

Quinn raised her grey eyes towards Asterin's, her mind working furiously. For the past few weeks, she'd examined every line, every mountain range and river on that map. Surely her brain remembered some of it, even if it was just crude shapes and directions, and she could add to it when they were on the road, right? She was sure if she had some paper she could…

"Asterin?" she said slowly. The young witch turned towards her, damp hair draping her face. "I think I have an idea."

"Kill Benji?" she replied bitterly. "Yeah, I agree. You'll have to hold Luka back, though, he'll probably try to stop us." Luka looked up in protest, but Quinn simply gave a small laugh.

"Yeah, not quite. Look, I think I might be able to replicate the map." Asterin's eyes widened hopefully and she quickly reached for the pile of her belongings, reading Quinn's mind. Ink and paper. Asterin rummaged through it, pulling out a small pot of ink but no paper. She watched as Asterin surveyed the pile again, than the charred, wet map. Than Quinn watched as she withdrew the 'The Complete History of Eyllwe' from within her bag. She looked at the book for a moment, just staring somewhat strangely at the cover, fingering the gold filigree on its spine absentmindedly. She suddenly flicked it open, landing haphazardly a few pages in. Quinn watched in uncomfortable silence, as did the Luka, the only echo in the cave the crackling of that betraying fire which echoed provokingly in her ears. Asterin turned them back slowly and Quinn gasped as she realized what the female was about to do. 

Quinn clenched her fist as Asterin gripped the book, winced, and tore out the first page, creamy and blank, glaring at the spot they last saw Benji, the cavemouth, as she did so. Quinn flinched in horror, almost wary to accept the sheet of paper. Asterin smiled weakly at her expression, noticeably looking at anything and everything but the desecrated book in her hand. Quinn accepted the paper, in a state just as weak as Asterin's own, handling both it and the ink with uncomfortable care. 

Quinn was still grimacing at the crime they had just committed as she heard the sodden tread of a soaked figure. She turned to Benji with a death threat in her eyes. "This better be worth this."


	16. Benji Whitehorn-Galathynius

"Come on, we're almost there - I can feel it in my bones." 

Quinn sighed, not even bothering to grab her makeshift map from her satchel. "We know, Benji. You've said that every hour. But there's still a mile to the town, and don't look so excited. We can't just go in there, arrows firing, before we even know anything is wrong." She heaved a sigh, her face the epitome of frustration. "Besides," she added, "we haven't even gotten to the outpost yet." 

Luka nudged Quinn in a quiet gesture as he looked up into the forest with tired eyes Benji followed his gaze almost instinctively. His eyes searched through the foliage and in the distance spied the outline of a small, wooden hut. He gave a lazy grin in the direction of Quinn. She could suck it, he was right.

"You mean that outpost?" he said slyly, before slapping Shimmerbean's hide. He shot off through the forest, the air streaming past him, golden hair flying up like a kite. From the sound of Quinn's soft curse and the thumping of hooves on forest floor, Benji assumed that his companions were trailing behind him. Good, they would flank him.

He reached the structure first, Shimmerbeans whinnying beneath him as he brought her to an abrupt stop. The hut was slim, tall, and hewn of strong, dark timber. Two large windows on either side were flung open, ready to admit visitors to Meah. But as Benji peered in through the wide, open windows, a stale scent wafted from within, as if this post had been abandoned. A pack of playing cards were strewn over a tall table and a bottle of gin half full beside them. But not a person in sight.

"Hello?" Benji inquired quietly, knowing it was futile. Quinn stepped up next to him and he turned away from the building catching her gaze as she took in the room. 

"Where is everyone?" she said mindlessly, freckled face crinkling as she looked to and thro. She was right, at this time of day, the border should be humming with travellors, the merchants among them with their swaying caravans wishing to enter the town to barter their wares. 

A blue bird trilled in the distance, its soft sound reverberating through the swaying trees. Luka followed its sound navigating quietly around the hut dazedly; Benji wondered when his friend has last slept. 

"Something's wrong," Asterin said softly, a hand reaching for the blood-hilted dagger at her waist. Benji wondered if she could sense something he could not, a question already forming on his lips. She started walking back to their horses, "We should split into pairs, scout the ar - "

"Oh my God." He heard Luka exclaim in panic out of sight, Asterin was already treading through the unchecked undergrowth towards him and Benji jumped into action, quick on her heels. Luka appeared out of the darkening foliage and whispered, his face pale "H-he needs help." 

Benji slowly reached forward. Laying spread-eagled in the brush, limbs tangled in a thicket, was a balding, middle-aged man. Tiny cuts peppered his pale skin, and the man's right shoulder, propped up by a thick dark branch, was sickly disjointed at his side. The man clenched his teeth, his eyes glinting in pain as he released another guttural groan. 

For a moment, Benji simply stood there, looking at the man. What the hell had happened? He whipped his head to Luka but his stunned expression yielded nothing. 

Asterin who had evidently surveyed the scene already, called from further back. "Whatever did this," Asterin said, "is still out there. Quinn and I will finish scouting the area. You and Luka" - she motioned to where the groaning man lay - "can sort this man out." 

What?! She was leaving him to deal with this useless old man while she went off to hunt the Valg. He held his tongue only because he knew that Luka wouldn't be able to secure this man on his own, he needed Benji's strength and magic. Just like Meah. 

Quinn and Asterin's footsteps faded behind him. Fine. He would just have to make sure this went as fast as possible so he could get back into the action. The man looked to have dragged himself through the brush, a tangle of roots slowly gripping his body and pinning him.

"Luka - help me get him out of here, quick."

The man's eyes narrowed at him. "Are you friend or foe?"

"Excuse me? 

"Your not some vagabonds here to finish me off, are you?"

Benji scoffed, "No, we are here to help you."

"So not thieves..?" His skepticism was starting to get on Benji's nerves, this was taking too long! 

"Whatever, Luka just heal him. I'll try and hack away at these stupid roots." 

Luka gave a small nod, an audible gulp emerging from his throat. The man's pain-ridden eyes widened in surprise. The healing gift was rare, and usually only found in sacred establishments like the Torre Cesme. At the first sign of displaying the gift, parents usually carted their children off to become apprentices and begin their medical educations. Well, most of the time. His friend, healing his various siblings on what seemed to be a daily basis, had become skilled in the gift without the establishment's teachings.

Luka knelt down in the grass, long spindles of green poking his dirty trousers. He stretched out steady, tanned hands towards the man's shoulder, his focus wholly on the disjointed bone. Benji felt his gaze being drawn back to his friend, his magic was so rarely seen. It was just amazing, really, given that his father's powers were death incarnate. The kingdom had only assumed that Luka's power had somehow come to him from the good nature of his mother. 

Benji blinked in approval and angled his knife towards the roots once again, but stopped. Luka slowly maneuvered the man's shoulder back into position, his hand beginning to glow. A small beacon of pale blue magic guided the bone and muscle back towards the joint. Benji abandoned his job entirely as he quietly watched his friends tentative fingers strain, his mouth tightening. He forced himself to breath and Benji regarded the mans short gasps even out. In a last burst Luka moved the bone quickly back into place, his gaze slightly confident for once. Luka's face was covered in sweat but he gave a small smile as the bone finally settled back into place and the man sighed a little in relief. The glow dulled and Luka turned and only then did Benji realise he had been staring. They locked eyes for a heartbeat before Benji blushed and glanced away quickly. He was definitely not staring in a weird way. No, it was staring in a 'wow you have never had a professional teacher before, I'm impressed way.' That was it and that was all. 

The man flopped into the grass with a sudden thud, calling Benji's mind back into focus. For a moment, the man panted heavily, before gasping out, "Thank you." Luka nodded earnestly, leaning down on the grass beside him. "So--wh-what are you doing here…if--if you aren't robbing me," The man heaved between breaths.

Benji looked at him incredulously. How could this man. No---"I am going to kill the last Valg."

The man stilled. "Meah," he said, his eyes wild now the pain was gone from them, "you have to help - please." He took a deep breath, and attempted to sit up in the grass. Luka quickly grabbed his shoulders, urging him to stay down. But the man persisted with more urgency as if drawing strength from Luka's magic. "Unhand me! You don't understand. My village - my village has been pillaged!"

For a moment, Benji simply stared at him. This was what they'd been searching for; what Manon had been referring to, all those days ago at Orynth castle. He gripped the man's wrist - hard - and leaned in closer hair, flopping over his sweaty forehead. He couldn't miss a word of what this man had to say.

"Explain."

But the man was no longer with them. He was gazing ahead, his eyes seeing, reliving, what they could not. "They suck the very soul out of you. Live in the darkness--my friends---those eyes, feeding, prowling…they were gone."

"Where are they?" Benji asked urgently.

"Memories…your worst memories---we didn't stand a chance. The whole slums just---bro-broke down."

Benji turned a triumphant smile on his face and started walking away. "Benji, wait. Just wait. Let's go find the girls, and we'll go into the town together. It'll be safer that way." Luka dropped his arm away from the man, still babbling furiously his mind truly somewhere else. But Benji didn't hear him and began to walk, dusting the dirt of his pants. "Benji, please," Luka exclaimed, watching him walk towards the path. 

But Benji shook his head. Didn't Luka get it! Why didn't he understand that they'd already wasted too much time, healing the old crone. Every second they wasted, an innocent fell into the Valg's hands. 

"Where are they?" Benji asked forcefully. 

The man shuddered, "They're in the outskirts of Meah, praying on the slums. Two of em'. But you'll be signing your death warrant by walking in there, leave while you still can!"

Benji glanced sceptically at Shimmerbeans, who was feasting on the lush, green grass. Even taking her would waste too much time. 

He quickly turned to Luka. "Go and get the girls - I'll see you there." 

Luka swore as a blinding flash of light obstructed his vision and the rear of a giant, spotted leopard emerged before him. 

"Benji, please, just wait!" Luka pleaded, but Benji simply flicked his tail, dug his talons into the soft dirt, and sprinted towards the town. His friend would be pissed, but... It was time for him to be a hero.


	17. Luka Lochan

Luka sprinted through the cobbled streets, his shoes thumping against the solid stone beneath him. Where the hell was Benji? His panting breath shattered through the soundless streets, his throat rasping as he called out for the golden-haired male. He'd left him, gone once again without forming even a semblance of a plan. What had his friend been thinking? That he could single-handedly defeat the Valg? 

The streets of the once prosperous sea town were in disarray. The doors of the vibrant houses were shut tight, the streets which he was sure would have once been filled with gleeful children, now empty and lifeless. Flower pots were overturned, the cobblestone cracked. Two Valg, the man at the outpost had said. Two Valg had done this. Caused so much fear. 

Luka blanched; he had to find Benji. 

He was in the wrong sector of the town; the townhouses were too large here, too grand. Flowers draped their windowsills, great, golden doorknockers graced the front doors. Where were the slums?

Luka doubted he'd ever moved so quickly in his life, not even in races to the chicken coup. His feet barely touched the pavement before his eyes were roving the streets furiously until the gigantic townhouses became slowly replaced with older, smaller homes. The paint was more faded here, the gardens less grand - but, they still showed signs of care, with tenderly planted daisies peppering most lawns.

Luka slowed, his sprint morphing to a steady gait. He had to move slowly, tentatively, lest his loud footsteps expose him. He'd never been good at fighting, never enjoyed the violence that accompanied it; he'd need any element of surprise he could muster.

He peered through the window of one of the small houses, nothing more than a glassless, crudely cut square. But the interior was empty, completely devoid of life. Luka prayed the owners were safe - that they had fled, and not experience the same fate as the man they had found.

Every once in a while, Luka would spot the terrified faces of someone peeking at him through the windows of their home and as he paced toward the next corner he say a body, lifeless and drained…as if the life had been sucked out of them… A girl with large, brown eyes even beckoned to him, urging him to join them, but... He had to find Benji.

Finally, as Luka rounded the corner into the edge of the slums, he found what he was looking for. 

Benji stood in the centre of the dirt courtyard bordering the seawall, his arms stretched wide as he shouted obscenities at a dark eyed man fifty feet away from him. He'd heard the myths, read the stories... But, the Valg was more horrifying than he ever could have imagined. So still, as if human movement was clumsy, foreign and its eyes; black pools promising violence. So eerily human but... Not. 

"So, you think you can take me, punk?" Benji shouted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. A wave crashed violently against the seawall, showering the courtyard with fresh, salty sea spray. The Valg smiled maliciously, its fingers dancing nimbly upon the handle of the pitchfork it held, as if it had plucked it from one of these very gardens. It took a quick step towards Benji, its movements so smooth Luka almost missed it. Gods, Benji was in way over his head.

"Yeah, you should be scared!" Benji intoned, taking the Valg's restlessness as a sign of fear. His friend turned towards the corner of the courtyard, where the villagers, huddling behind barrels and bricks, watched in terror. Benji inclined his head towards them, giving them a small wink. A young girl in drab clothing smiled nervously at him before retreating behind the folds of her mother's sodden dress.

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Luka would have cringed.

Benji started forward, a grin emerging on his face as he spied Luka. Another wave crashed against the town, agitated. Benji drew his long, metal capped staff from where it was neatly strapped across his back. Carved along it's length were black, swirling symbols - the wrydmarks of Eyllwe. The staff had been a gift - from his mother. When Aelin had visited Eyllwe after the great war, the King and Queen had bestowed the staff upon her in thanks for her dedication to them to their daughter.

Luka still remembered the day Aelin had given Benji the staff, that training session she'd said he'd proved he was worthy to wield such a weapon. Benji had walked up to him, blue eyes wide, and immediately challenged him to duel, even though he knew Luka had the fighting capacity of a mouse.

A small grin emerged on Luka's face at the memory. A grin which quickly faded as Benji leapt, staff outstretched towards the Valg. 

Benji lunged, his staff moving with raw force as he slammed it downwards towards his opponent. The Valg snarled, sidestepping with unnatural grace. Benji stumbled forwards, but quickly righted himself, a red tinge emerging on his pale cheeks. Benji had always been strong - but that was against the palace guards. The opponent Benji now faced was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. 

"Alright, then," Benji said, flustered. "You know how to fight. That's fine, maybe you'll actually last a few minutes!" The Valg raised a brow in amusement, his attention refocusing on the collection of villagers behind Benji. A hungry expression emerged on his face. Luka gulped, to the Valg the golden-haired male was so unimportant, so worthless that he could not even engage his full attention for longer than two minutes . 

"Helloooooooo!" Benji said in frustration. "Don't look at them. Look at me." That seemed to have become Benji's go to phrase when someone wasn't paying him enough attention. In annoyance, the Valg spun towards Benji, an animalistic snarl ripping from it's mouth. Benji's taunting smile wavered. 

Gods, Benji could be so freakin' dumb sometimes. It was one thing to fight a Valg, but to taunt it and practically ask it to kill you? Luka started towards his friend, but paused as the Valg finally began to speak.

"You want us to look at you, Male. We will look at you, take apart your soul, and hunt your precious followers." Finally, the being gestured towards Luka, his black eyes narrowing. "And then, your helpless friend."

Benji's eyes took on a worried glint as they followed the Valg's to where Luka stood at the corner of the courtyard. As if he was remembering what little fighting capacity Luka possessed. 

"Enough talk," Benji snapped, positioning his feet in a defensive position. 

"Agreed," the Valg snarled, and lurched into action. Benji whipped his staff, jumping nimbly to the side as he parried the Valg's first attack. It moved with unworldly grace, the clumsy pitchfork becoming 3-pronged death in its hands slashing, cutting, searching for gaps in Benji's defense. But through it all, Benji simply grinned, weaving through the Valg's vicious attacks, parrying each of its movements with violent blows of his staff. 

But even Luka could see that the male was outmatched, relying on his barest instincts to guard his weaknesses. Every once and a while, Benji would miss one of the Valg's advances, and he'd stumble back, back, back, until he was standing only metres before the village folk he protected. 

Luka watched in horror as their faces began to pale, as their cheeks began to hollow. "S***," he muttered as Benji once again stumbled, only to right himself at the final minute. "S***." He had to do something. He couldn't just stand here and watch any longer.

"Okay," he breathed, stepping towards where the Valg loomed over Benji and the villagers, "you can do this."

Benji's eyes widened as he saw Luka approach the Valg from behind. Luka managed a smile in his direction, tying to let him know that it was okay, that he could do this. Benji looked as if he were going to say something, but was interrupted as the Valg lashed forwards once again.

Luka slowly reached for the knife sheathed in his leather boot, weighing it carefully in his palm. The knife was heavy hilted - definitely not designed for fighting or knife throwing. Luka had used it numerous time to hack through foliage on their journey, or cut wood for their evening fire. 

Luka raised his hand, aligning his focus with the back of the Valg's head. The demon still hadn't noticed him, too preoccupied with the townsfolk and the hot-tempered male before him. "Okay, Luka, you can do this," he muttered to himself. "On the count of three."

"One," he said softly, steadying his breathing. 

"Two." He gripped the knife tightly, bending his elbow as he'd seen Quinn do a thousand times. A round of Knives at the hideout. That's all this was. He tried to ignore the fact he'd always been a poor shot.

"Three," he muttered, exhaling and releasing the knife with a mighty thrust. It sailed through the air, twirling round and round and round, until it collided with, with - 

"The hell?" Benji exclaimed, as the Valg crumpled to the ground in front of him. Benji looked curiously towards him, "did you just knock it out?" 

"I - I don't know-" Luka began, staring at the Valg in shock. His knife's blade had not imbedded itself in the Valg's back as he'd intended... but, rather, its heavy hilt had collided with the Valg's head. And knocked it out. Cold.

The villagers watched on nervously, searching for a sign of life from the demon splayed across the dirt floor. The sea roared behind them, filling Luka's ears. He raised his eyes to Benji, his voice jumpy with adrenaline. "What are we supposed to do with it!"

Benji surveyed his surroundings, pushing away the various townspeople attempting to embrace him and offer their thanks. Finally, his eyes locked on a deep well in the centre of the courtyard. Luka followed his gaze. The well's cobbled walls were high, but together, they'd probably be able to lift the Valg inside. 

Cautiously, Benji approached the Valg and prodded its limp form with the tip of his staff. It rolled lifelessly on the dirt ground, its body slumping. Benji narrowed his eyes, examining the demon's still throat. 

"You know, I actually think you killed it."

Luka shuffled to where Benji stood, dust rising with every step. Sure enough, the Valg was completely still; Luka could see no rising of its chest, nor hear the steady beating of its heart. Benji knelt down, wrapping his arms around the Valg's shoulders. 

"Help me," he groaned, his back straining from the effort. Luka started forward, grasping the Valg's legs. Together, they dragged the Valg towards the well, leaving a long skid mark in the dark dirt. With one, almighty heave, they lifted the Valg up and tossed it into the well's dark abyss.

For a moment, they stood, waiting for the splash that would signal the Valg hitting the well's murky waters. Luka shifted uneasily, his shoe making a swirling pattern in the black dirt. No sound came. 

"That must be one deep well," Benji said warily, turning back to where the horde of villagers stood, transfixed. They kneeled in the dirt, bowing for their saviours, their exclamations of thanks carrying on the idle sea breeze that swept through the great courtyard. Luka flushed. They'd beaten the Valg on a whim, on a complete stroke of luck, and yet... They'd beaten it. They'd beaten this, this monster which had cleaved itself into their world, and thought that it could take it as its own.

Benji nodded in approval, stepping forwards as he yelled, "Hell yeah. We did it, we're awesome." He turned to the sea, his arms raised high, as he bellowed, "When I say 'Ben', you say 'ji'!" 

Luka turned towards him, disbelief crossing his features. What the hell was he doing?

"BEN!" Benji shouted enthusiastically, sea spray drenching his t-shirt. Luka resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"JI!" the crowd roared, racing forwards to hold Benji's pale hands, to utter their eternal thanks to him. Luka retreated into the shade of the well. Even though he'd technically defeated the Valg, he could let Benji have this one. After all, Benji had been the one who did the real fighting; Luka had simply gotten lucky. He hadn't even been aiming for the head. 

An old woman clad in drab clothing approached Benji, clasped his hand, and smiled at him, her tongue showing through her misshapen teeth. Benji squeezed her hand, smiling happily at the grey-haired crone as she murmured her thanks through her tears. A chorus of 'Ben-ji' filled the air, the villages singing the male's name as if it were a mantra, a prayer, as if his friend were a god.

Yes - he could let Benji have this one.


	18. Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard

They had headed south from the abandoned hut, leaving the injured man to Luka and Benji. 

Asterin slowed to the tree line, staying just within its sweeping boughs and shadows. The scene she saw was peaceful, lazy even, as the farmers toiled about in the slight wind bounding in off the coast. She felt a worming guilt at the image of Benji's downcast expression, and seeing what lay before her, was glad he had not seen her true intention to keep him out of the fight, to keep his naïve spirits from causing more havoc. As much as she wanted to believe he could do it, he had no idea what he would be getting himself into. Her eyes snagged on the scarecrows propped in the middle of fields as she looked past to the swaying figures of two lithe women seated meditatively on the ground. They were calling forth the Earth's gift and it's peaceful magic reverberated in her bones. She could feel her magic yearning to join them but she held it's leash tight. She watched as the soil groaned and shifted under the careful hands of the woman and as a burly man who, mere metres away hacked at the deadened cane decaying on the edges of the next field. 

Beside her, an impatient Quinn nudged Atlas forward towards a thick oak trunk, starting to stand, as if preparing to scale the tree for a better view. As she looked out across the farmlands to the town, She let her shoulders loosen, a little, taking in the walled city. The wall boasted a mixture of glass and stone, a memento to that glass wall Aelin had built and the stone castle her father had spared. The bond of their kingdoms protecting this city which stood as a pinnacle on the border of their lands. At least those boring authors had taught her something. 

As she attempted to look past it an odd silence blanketed the land. That was before they heard it - that bloodcurdling cry. A high-pitched scream shattered the unnatural silence, causing Asterin to jolt in her saddle.

Quinn lept down from the oak, back in her saddle quicker than Asterin's fae eyes could detect. She barely looked back before she shot towards the city, towards that scream, battling her way through the corn-laden fields. 

Asterin, though, hesitated. As if she would be able to sense Benji and Luka's presences, and ensure their safety. She held her breath, and nodding once in conviction flying like the wind to Meah's wall of glass and stone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friesian quickly caught up to Atlas, putting on a burst of speed as they neared the wall. Asterin whipped her head over to Quinn, mind flooded with possible plans and strategy. They would ask around, find someone not in a dead panic. She tossed up sending Quinn back to get the boys but stuck with her gut; she had purposefully left them behind, they were too… all she needed was the girl beside her. They could do this. 

She raised her head just as they cleared the wall. The market place was scattering, the crowd remaining was twitchy - panicked. Must have been a working day. 

Quinn looked at her for guidance. Ok, ok, venture calmly inside and find a gods damned guard. 

In her quick glimpse of the town's folk she had not seen any allies, warriors or fae. But she sensed the barriers and shields being erected bouncing from house to house. She let herself loose a breath with a whoosh. Adarlan was still shaky in it's fae populace but those with the ability would protect the magic-less. A community Adarlan had not welcomed in a long, long time, now finally allowed to flourish. 

So she let her eyes dart around. She could tell these people would not react well to her questions. They were withdrawing into the stack of townhouses and shopfronts leaving the square and its centerpiece monument in silent vigil. The handsome figure it depicted had his arms swept welcomingly, he was young and her heart jolted in recognition as she read the inscription: Roland Havilliard. Her uncle had disappeared into Morath and never come out, and as she heard another scream she shivered to think of what he had become, of what was even now infesting these lands and people, once again. 

"Asterin, we have to move. Where?" Quinn was nearly growling, her impatience fueled by fear. She tried to think faster and felt a splash as her magic tried to grab hold. It called to protect her, it sensed danger. She quelled it and felt a throb in her head. No, stop. Think. 

She looked once more at the statue. Her dad assumed Roland had been taken for his magic bloodline but from what she had gleaned of Morath, perhaps his famed treatment of women had been a first class ticket into the Darkness. A cursed black market of suffering, the true underbelly of every good city. For every city has its underbelly---

"We head to the poorest sector. The slums." The Valg thrived on suffering, she recalled. And with no small amount of frustration she knew that the weak and outcast would be perfect prey. Quinn nodded, whether she understood the reasoning or if she trusted Asterin. Mother help us, she prayed as another scream rang out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asterin pushed with all her horse's strength as they finally saw the sway of fine golden trims and three-story mansions fall away, only to be replaced with flimsy driftwood houses, the bungalows of the slums broken up only by a rotting bar and the continual push of the current and sea winds forcing sand up the street in an angry mist. They had come around the front of town, still following the echo of that heart-wrenching scream. 

The gaps between houses, the 'streets', shrunk, getting narrower and narrower. Asterin dismounted and Quinn followed suite, the silence of the movement being of little comfort even after the sheer cries. 

Then they heard it. A thud and a sickening heavy brush across the ground. As if a body, no, a person, was being dragge---. 

"Let's go." She pointed, shoving down the those thoughts far, far down with that cursed magic, they could both be claimed by the Darkness for all she cared. Quinn eagerly headed around the corner and Asterin lunged to catch up. They turned, listening at each door front, through each porthole window until she caught sight of fluttering curtains up ahead and a shift in the dirt of a particularly gloomy house ahead. 

"That one. We'll ambush, front and back. Draw one out, if not a few." To the Mother she hoped there would be no more than one. "But be careful, go for the head and any person inside there with it is our top priority. Loop around if you ne--"

"I won't need to." And the look in Quinn's eyes was enough to indicate that she too had heard the maternal tone in those cries, knew too what that silence might mean. Asterin did not think the valg would come out of that fight on top. 

She got to the front door, Quinn had already slipped away around the back. The house itself had a thatched roof, two windows, and a door of twined logs slightly off kilter. But the heavy darkness that emitted was no cause of the construction and the eerie abandonment of this entire street. Well at least that meant less victims. One comfort, enough for her to lift her chin, her mother's grueling training kicking in. Legs apart, wrist loose and head up. This was her kingdom. She would protect it. 

She heard a BANG. Followed by a snarl. 

She was already through the door. Quinn was rolling with the Valg on the floor, the tussle was short-lived as it pinned her. Holy Gods. It moved like nothing should, its precision had Quinn's knife wrenched from her grip with a cry and the look in that creature's face. 

Definitely not human. No. It looked like it was planning for a feast, hearty and slow. She ran for it while it was distracted by Quinn's flailing arms and flying curses. Then she saw the body. A pale figure slumped against the wall near the bed of this one room house. Her belly bulging and her skin. There was no way to describe it but…shriveled. 

She knew then why Quinn had leapt on the Valg without waiting for her. A mother and babe were sacred, to hurt one was a sin they could not forgive. Almost as if it knew what she was thinking, the Valg laughed in pleasure, finally pinning her friend's arms and inspecting Asterin now, knife in hand, edging it closer and closer to the squirming redhead beneath it. 

"So young and so fierce, you Fae, but you seem to lack…skill." The Valg went to drop Quinn's knife with a cold and ancient grin and she let her own fly. It yowled in pain as her blade imbedded itself into the flesh of it's forearm. Black blood leaked past the handle. And her disgust was matched only by her relief as the blade it had held clattered to the ground. She had been aiming for its hand but it had let go, that’s all the mattered. It became distracted by the pain, hissing in anger as its blood pooled and she took the opportunity to edge slowly around the room, another dagger already at the ready. 

She realised now what fools they were. They did not know their enemy, they did not even hope to possess enough skill and they had already failed at the one task that truly mattered. Saving the woman. And now look what had happened, Quinn was in danger. Holy s***. The only thing going for her right now was the fact that there was only one of them. 

Well, that, and the perfect distraction. Quinn's voice pierced through the thickening silence, "you b****. You son of a b****. You are going to pay for hurting her. You think you can hurt a mother and just walk away. Huh, smiley? Oh no, you have just landed yourself in all pits of hell." To her credit Quinn's voice did not waver as the beast recovered quickly, smiling down at her.

Quinn turned red with rage as it spoke again. "I dragged myself up out of those pits of hell." He bared his nails but Quinn kept getting redder and redder until in a small burst of crimson light the valg fell to his knees, empty handed as a fox leapt upon his brow and scratched down his face with an almighty yowl. Sending tears of black blood spraying on the ground. The Valg slashed at it's face in rage and grabbing a tuft of soft orange fur, threw her friend across the room.

Quinn's fox body cracked against the wall. The hut trembled as Asterin watched her friend thud heavily to the floor, dust falling on top of her as the very wood paneling seemed to shift. Likely to fall to pieces on top of them with any brawling movement. But she was already in action, launching herself as black blood puddled. She had used her friend's distraction well and her sword, concealed under her hair, was now sweeping through the air. 

She landed on the Valg's chest and they toppled over her, pinning it underneath her body. She pressed her sword against it's throat using its angled position to help keep it contained. It snapped at her, fangs fighting against the black blood pooling in its mouth. 

"We cannot merely be killed, Witch. But you--I will close your ill-fated eyes for good. Your gaze disgraces our Kings and I will delight in your atonement." It's hand came out of nowhere a swipe to the left of her face, at her golden eye. It was so deadly fast, her sword wasn't quick enough to block it, but her arm was. Its black claws buried into her hand and forearm, sweeping blue blood down her wrist. She cried out and swung wildly again at its retreating hand. Her magic built behind her eyes sensing her pain, threatening to turn the house and slums to rubble in vengeance. 

No, no, no. CONTROL! Her magic peaked through her, allowing her to sense the flimsiness of the building. Its touch expanded to the very roots of the property; there wasn't much holding there. If they hit the wall again it was going to fall, everything was going to fall. She closed her eyes desperately, keep it contained, kill the Valg and no one else, please. Arm still aching blindly she felt a wet thud as she swung and hit something. The house trembled again. It screamed as it's hand rolled away, cleanly cut from the arm, a now bleeding stump of black. She retched inside her mouth and turned, horrified to look into its eyes, it was still screaming, crying over and over "I'll kill you Witch!"

Asterin pushed it aside. End it now. 

But as her golden eye met it's, the black pools of ichor she had refused to stare at before seemed to grow in her vision and then, as she once again raised her blade, her magic reached out towards the Valg and time seemed to slow. The shivering house held still and the black iris receded until only tawny brown blinked back at her. It looked from her blue to her golden eye and whispered even as her sword got ever closer, even as its fangs gleaned and its body jilted forcefully against her. 

"You have beautiful eyes."

Her sword came down, her magic snapping back as she let out a sob. The man continued gazing into her eyes, not with anger and disgust, but - gratitude and kindness. Her blade sank deeper into his neck, but his eyes remained locked on her, that thankful smile never wavering. 

His head thudded away and she gasped, tears rolling down her face as it vibrations echoed across the floor. Thunking all the way to the fox against the wall who looked up blearily and flashed, forming a girl with frizzy red hair curling limply into her chest even as she stared at that head and then back at her friend. 

Asterin felt her tears even as she heaved another sob, felt them mixing with the black blood staining her face. She retched and vomited all over the floor, still heaving as the ground became a mix of bile and blood, black, red and blue. 

She had killed a man, not a beast. She had accomplished nothing, saved no one and when he had looked into her eyes, he'd smiled. Even as she'd brought down that sword with all the force she possessed, he'd smiled. 

And so she heaved again as silence returned to the hut, as the shifting dust stopped falling, the dead man's voice echoing through her skull. 

"You have beautiful eyes."


	19. Quinn Ashryver

It felt slimy - a peculiar coating that one does not usually encounter unless one is thrown in a swamp, or down a well. 

As its hands scraped up the stone sides, claws more than fingers now, it pulled its blackened form from its crooked position. The water lazily lapped at its legs; the long fall had been halted before the sinking depths of water by a slight caving of rock. It chuckled throatily. We are hard to kill and they have forgotten our might. 

Then a curious sound echoed down the well, bouncing left to right as it reached it from the peaking bright surface of the well. 

"Benj -ji! Ben -ji!"

The thing traced a claw around the full moon shape of the well's top, a tiny beacon above. And it moved its mouth, in an imitation of the townsfolk above. "Benji, Benji, Benji," it hummed to itself as it began to claw against the stone surrounding it . A smile curved its face as its blackened hand reached up to that lip of stone. The Valg moved up the side of the now roughened rock, ignoring the black blood dripping from the back of its skull and leg. 

The blood dripped into the pure water below, in a growing, darkening swirl; the light shrinking slowly from its depth. 

~~~

Quinn groaned. She hauled herself up, resting her tired body against the side of the hut. That is, until she felt the wood actually shift beneath her touch. She abandoned its wilting frame and was crouched on the floor assessing the bright pain in her back and on the back of her head. Gods that Valg had thrown her so hard. She blinked intermittently a few times, and deciding she didn't have a concussion, forced herself to move over to the poor person laying limply in the corner.

The woman was unconscious.

She decided that was a good thing, it was better than being a witness to what had occurred. Asterin, she glanced to briefly, was still slumped next to the man, forehead pressed to the blood caked ground. Quinn turned away. As much as she ached to hug her friend, she knew it would do no good. 

Instead, she reached down towards the woman's slumped form, moving her slightly to judge her injuries. There was no blood on the woman's head but her breathing became shallow at the slight pressure Quinn had applied to her stomach to turn her over. A broken rib. Or possibly a few broken ribs. She tried to stay calm; the woman would be fine, surely. They just had to get her some help. 

She looped her arms around the woman's shoulders and groaning somewhat lifted, shuffled, and dragged the woman onto the shaky, straw bed in the left corner. 

"We have to get Luka. Asterin, this woman needs a healer." Quinn straightened, welcoming the adrenaline that strengthened her tender muscles. Asterin did not move. "This woman---the baby, needs a healer." Asterin again didn't move, didn't even seem to register that she was speaking. Quinn huffed. "This is what we came here to do!" She yanked Asterin's arm back from her bent over form, but let it go quickly as her hand became slick with blue blood. 

Asterin did not move, did not even flinch as Quinn's hand touched the wicked slice that ran along her forearm and wrist. Her head remained bowed as she sat ignoring, no not ignoring, shut off from Quinn. She didn't know what had her friend acting like this. But I am fully aware we don't have time for this. She turned to the bed once again, eyeing the small movement of the woman's chest.

"You know I would have killed It. If you hadn't I would have. So stop it, stop blaming yourself or doing whatever you're doing." She knelt down. "It was a monster that attacked an innocent town, attacked a pregnant woman, Asterin. A pregnant woman which still needs our help." Placing a careful hand on her friend's stiff shoulder she gently pulled Asterin up to a kneeling position. "Hey, Live free - Die free." She forced Asterin to meet her eyes, forced her own expression to stay strong even though her anger was ebbing into panic as she took in the hollow shadows of Asterin's irises. 

"Live free - Die free," Asterin whispered. A flicker of light came back into her eyes, beating the darkness away with this one true promise they shared. Quinn helped her friend up but as she stood Asterin peeled away. Quinn watched, trying not to pace, as Asterin collected her belongings. Wiping some blood from her arm that glowed a dull healing blue, she nodded to Quinn. 

Asterin reached the door as she opened it, barely glancing at Quinn who was moving incessantly from one foot to the other. Itching to go, to grab Luka and race back. Asterin just nodded, silent once again.

~~~

She was planning to grab their horses and hightail it back to the forest and the hut but Asterin stalled out the door. Quinn rammed into the grimy back of the witch and in trying not to be too grossed out she dodged neatly to the side and caught the unmistakable sounds of cheering? 

Suffice to say, they were now tracking its whereabouts. It was clearly somewhere else in the slums, which were a dense network of incredibly narrow alleys. They were heading closer and closer to the shoreline. The crashing of the waves coupled with the sound of a smallish crowd as they emerged into an open space. Quinn was relieved at its size, easily the biggest space in the whole quarter and most likely a market place. She spied a shabby well - definitely a community area then. There was some sort of raised section in the middle upon which she located the attraction of the noise. Benji, somewhat incredulously, was being serenaded by the crowd as they cooed his name in a joyful chant. 

Apart from the fact that he was not supposed to be in Meah, the performance itself was enough to leave even Asterin stunned for a minute. She blinked a few more times, thinking back to her hurried concussion assessment; perhaps she had better ask Asterin to check up on her. And as she turned to ask the girl she saw the dark hair and despondent face of Luka.

Every other thought went out of her mind, rightly so, as she locked onto him and moved her feet. "What the bloody hell is going on? We need you to come with us, now."

Luka looked up, he did not look shocked, perhaps a little bemused. Until he saw Asterin and jumped up immediately tense and reaching for the girl. It was a fair call, she looked like s***. But one look from her stalled him.

Quinn held her tongue, not insisting they move right away. Asterin was clearly not in the mood for her not-so-delicate reminders. So as long as Luka didn't fluster and mess around, they could be off in two minutes anyway. 

"A Valg attacked but we got rid of it. And, as you can see, Benji is getting a resounding thanks for it." Luka's bitter tone was accompanied by an attempted reach for Asterin's arm, zoning in on her worst injury. 

She quickly brushed him off. "How?"

"Oh, I uhhh, slammed my knife hilt into the back of its head, you know? Kinda threw it and I thought I just knocked it out cold. But Benji took one look at it and he said it was dead." He was rambling and Quinn ground her teeth instead of snapping that he should get to the point. 

Asterin sighed. "Where?" Luka's short-lived confidence and his spur of the moment competence faded into a murky uncertainty as he finally moved to the side, pointing at the well.

"We chucked it down there."

Asterin did not ask Quinn or Luka to grab Benji. She did not, in fact, say anything as she walked with a controlled and unnervingly resigned manner towards the well. She took a few steps before unsheathing her sword, still grimy at her side and wiped away the building gunk from her face. 

Quinn couldn't help thinking she looked a little too numb for someone who was clearly preparing for a fight. Deciding her friend's judgement must be off, she stepped forward and opened her mouth. 

Asterin leaned over the well, resting her free hand on the lip of stone to get a better angle.   
A slimy and blackened hand reached out, searching for her pale fingers. She took a single step backwards and it was all Quinn could do not to scream as another Valg hauled its body out of the depths of the well. 

Very much alive. 

She was going to kill Luka and Benji, if Asterin didn't get to it first. 

Asterin stood her ground, reaching both hands to the sword sheathed at her side. Quinn was already grabbing a dagger and marching towards her friend. A thin vale of mist reached out over the scene, darkening Asterin's face in stark contrast to her golden eye. And from that shadow Benji emerged, having leapt from the courtyard platform, pole raised high. He slammed it down upon the unsuspecting back of the Valg's head and just like that it crumpled to a heap at Asterin's feet. 

Asterin didn't even flinch. Luka on the other hand did, sidling up beside Quinn, both Fae standing mere feet away from the scene as the crowd fell silent; before erupting into applause for Benji. But Quinn kept striding forward for Asterin, who had not sheathed or even lowered her sword. 

The crowd dimmed as Asterin seemed to part its swimming expanse, standing before Benji once again. Quinn reached the body, kneeling over it. I will end this one. But she watched Asterin cautiously. What is she doing, she should just leave Benji to his pig-headedness. 

She watched as Asterin silently inclined the hilt of her sword to Benji. Welcoming him, no, inviting him to take her blade. To take the kill. He held out a hand somewhat confusedly, looking around the crowd for some sort of answer as their cheering dimmed somewhat. Quinn gulped as Asterin leaned over the blade, the hilt of which Benji now held in his grasp. She whispered something to him, so quiet, so empty, in her stance and expression. Quinn wanted to go up and grab the sword herself; I would just get it over and done with. 

But almost silently she heard her friend whisper, "The head."

And it was somewhat horrifying. Not the words themselves, but the events that unfolded afterwards. 

For as Quinn looked on, Benji smiled. He walked over to her and she numbly stood up and backed away. He beheaded the Valg with a fierce blow, his eyes bright as the crowd cheered for him again. As they recognised him as a hero. 

Quinn guided herself through the crowd to the still unmoving white-haired figure of her friend, Luka already waiting beside her. Asterin gave a singular shake of her head in Benji's direction and they walked away. 

Quinn looked back, briefly. To catch Benji's eye. He nodded at her, mouthing something along the lines of, "I'll catch you up." Quinn couldn’t even find it within herself to smile as he grinned and mouthed "We did it!" So she led the other two back to the hut leaving the hero to his glory.


	20. Lars

"--tap into your inner darkness---" 

Huh? What's he saying? Lars blinked rapidly as he slumped against a new tree in a new forest relieved to collapse after another day spent trekking. His half-open eyes landed on a brightly lit clearing but the sunlight was too intense. He shut them again, embracing the darkness. Gods, he was so tired. He let his head fall back against the tree, not particularly caring whether Orcus could tell if he was listening. Technically this is an inner darkness…

He was standing on a mountain peak. The lack of trees left him exposed to the biting wind, freezing him to the core.  
Lars steeled himself, and peeked over the edge. A jagged, near vertical cliff face greeted him. It was so deep and as the wind buffeted him he took a step back, just for safety. And sat down. The view was mesmerizing and with a lower centre of gravity he felt far safer. His legs spooled over the edge and he thanked whatever god that was awake with him this early in the morning for the fact that Orcus had not demanded he hike to the nearest village for food. In fact, he added a little footnote to his gratitude, thank Gods Orcus was not awake yet. The male's presence was unmistakable and beautifully absent from the cliff as Lars relaxed his shoulder, his legs and his mind. He watched how the suffocating dark of the cliff was punctured by his legs as he let them swing limply in the wind. It seemed to ripple around them. He felt some sort of joy in watching its affect and as he clenched his fist beside him he was sparked with a joyful burst of surprise as the darkness deepened around his leg, the shadows masking its existence totally. 

His thoughts began to wander to the shadowy sky above him and he strained his rapidly tensing mind to claim ownership over the darkness. You are mine. His leg reappeared and he slumped, huffing angrily. Of course, now it runs away from me. He was too tired to calm his anger, so he let it run its course and suddenly blinked up in surprise as a tendril of dark cloud and mist was funneling to him from the lower clouds. He stood up and clung to that anger. You are mine. He forgot about Orcus, about his task, about the whole stupid world as he reached up to touch his darkness. 

It was at that moment that he was thrown off the edge, not by the wind but by a massive roaring--holy hell! He turned and stared at the wyvern as he fell, his scream swallowed up by the massive roar the beast let out. It echoed down the tunnel that the cliff drop had become. The massive figure's wings were swirled in tight, covering most of its body, a shimmering film made them gleam in the sun and it was as he followed their swirling path along the beast's wing that he saw the second wyvern, and the riders that were astride each beast. 

A woman with sharp bright hair was staring down the cliff like it were the barrel of a telescope. But the other woman…he recognised her. She was no longer writhing on the floor, her stomach mangled. In fact she looked alive and…happy as she bellowed a fierce laugh, challenging the sky. Her blonde hair wrangling free of her headband as she too dove towards him. 

He looked again at the first witch: she had a blood-red cloak, and had not been in the room with the other woman. Did she know what had happened? Her golden eyes lightened as the other woman's laugh echoed down the gap and she finally outpaced his fall, streaming past him. 

The other approached and he reached out to her. Unclean. The words flashed in his mind but he grabbed at her leathers; he wanted to know this woman. He shared her saddle as they flew and he watched as the first wyvern flared its wings and soared with an agile control, and then he felt it as the blue wyvern beneath him echoed the movement. He felt exhilarated and Lars was smiling as the woman again let out a laugh that could have rattled the star; it was a brutal but joyful sound and despite the darkness of his surroundings he was shocked to find light, both in her laugh and the other woman's eyes. 

The wyvern beneath him caught the smaller one up and he slid behind the blonde woman, finding he could balance quite easily. He watched as the woman's eyes caught; there was something special in their bond, he could feel it. He had no idea what it meant, or what he was doing. Why does this feel so important? 

They banked left and as the wyvern beneath him rumbled and the clouds broke over the darkening landscape for a brief stab of sunrise he felt a sigh of contentment in the company of these women. So he followed them, wandering through staggering mountain peaks, finding some mountain goats and watching as the women shared the meat with their wyverns, consuming it as equals. He felt, in that moment, their brutality once again, for she grabbed at its neck. Ironteeth Witches. Those steel claws and fangs came out and the brute power of the cloaked women, witch, was matched only by the beasts beside her. He continued with the witches as the flew back and headed again to make that daunting dive. 

They were both laughing now and he watched below as the shards of rock below came every closer. They fragmented, with each beat of the wyvern's pulse pounding against his leg. Cracking into a growing hole of white oblivion. He grabbed desperately at the blonde witch in front of him and he called out to her companion and for a moment she looked sharply in his direction. But not at him, he realised, as she yelled a name out in challenge and grinned with those terrifying fangs. 

"Asterin!"

He fell into the white space alone.

~~~

"That was not what I asked."

Lars opened his eyes. He was sprawled upon the shady spring leaves covering the clearing they had taken up residence in for the day. He registered vaguely that he had been attempting to tap into "his inner darkness" before his fatigue must have swept over him. Oh gods, I just fell asleep, in the middle of a training session, with the King!

He looked up, scrambling desperately to right himself, he felt he had surely strained his neck doing so. It would seem I did. For in front of him Orcus waited, ever cold and removed from this 'temperate mortal world' as he so called it. But his brow was raised slightly and the embarrassment Lars felt was slowly growing into a rash tauntingly hot across his face. 

"I…uhhh…I did manage to make some darkness." He patchily garbled about the vision for surely the little bit of control he had shown there had to count towards something. Surely. "I was…standing, you know, on a cliff and I played with the shadows…even made my leg disappear."

"Yes. It was clear you were apt in wielding the darkness, already."

"But... That wasn't just playing with darkness. That was- well that’s what I call a vision. We've never... Discussed anything like that before...?" For a moment, Lars could have sworn the King appeared shocked. But the moment passed, leaving an expression of cold skepticism on his face. He'd had these moments before, but that was just in his dreams... 

"No. It was not necessary to discuss, yet." Orcus uncrossed his legs and stood walking over to Lars. He could not help shrinking slightly at the looming shadow. "But, perhaps, it will teach you the control your actions, though you still lack conviction."

Orcus was still approaching Lars who felt it appropriate to now extract himself from his own crossed legs and began trying to scramble away, calmly. The King reached out and grabbed his arm. Lars yelped tensing into a protective position. 

After a few seconds of nothing he opened his eyes. The King was looking down at him, having dropped his arm. He again had that slightly raised eyebrow. He looks at me with that expression all the time. He extricated himself from his crouched ball on the ground, trying to salvage some dignity and upon raising himself to his feet realised: They were in the white space again, but not his whitespace - his headspace. He could tell, somehow there was a difference, perhaps it was slightly bigger, although know that he thought about it, it smelt kind of different and…there was little light. Sure the space was white, but somehow it still felt shadowy…

"This is what my mindscape is, its look, its feel…they are attuned to me." Orcus gestured to the blank expanse and as his hand arced through the air the scene changed. As if his fingers were a paintbrush where they covered the plane the white faded to that same craggy landscape he had seen through that shivering black portal. "In here, I am in complete control, as long as I know myself."

He turned back and looked at Lars, directly into his eyes. "You do not know yourself, that is something I cannot teach, but..." he once again gestured at what he had captured with his minds eye. "In here, your only limits are those you impose upon yourself."

He blinked and they were back in the clearing, the King still standing over him, lightly grasping his arm, Lars cowering beneath. He righted himself and stood to match Orcus, at least a little. 

"This will be promising but…perhaps tedious." He began to walk away. "Practice, get into your own mind." He turned and Lars was once again reminded that the body in front of him was once a different man, for as he smiled there was a demons gleam in those teeth, an ancient evil in those eyes, "Maybe you will even find yourself in there."

For a while, he simply sat in the clearing, patiently waiting for Orcus to return. But as the day drew on, he found himself being unable to clear his head of the white-haired witch, and her piercing call out into the night. As the sun slowly melded into the horizon, that one word persevered in his head. 

Asterin.


	21. Lars

Lars had given up, gone to bed as soon as the sun crept beneath the horizon. He couldn't muster the energy to do anything useful. He shifted in his bedroll, hyper aware of every stick that jabbed his spine and every cold, fat raindrop that leaked from the leafy ceiling above. The fire had long since succumbed to the rain, no more than a smudge of acrid charcoal against the even thicker blackness of the forest. He'd began to resent the darkness, especially here, where not even the stars could pierce the canopy. It seemed to only amplify somber feelings, making it twice as hard for him to stay in a cheerful mood. 

Not that he'd been trying particularly hard to be cheerful. That emotion just seemed too stark in contrast to the forest and the King. He'd held on to the King's encouragement for about four hours and then the sun had started to sink, taking   
his good spirits down with it. Asterin. All he was left with was that name and a feeling of wistful longing, like he was a witness to a life gone by, something that shouldn't have been lost but was. Water droplets splattered frigidly on his taunt, pale face. There was going to be more ice on the ground tomorrow. 

He shivered and wished for the warmth of his home. This cold, wet forest lacked company, leaving him with only his thoughts to occupy him. He missed people, just people in general. If someone had asked me months ago if I would have succumbed to homesickness travelling by myself, I would have scoffed in their face. But now… now, he'd kill to just have a conversation with anyone who wasn't his own reflection. 

He snuggled deep into his bedroll, before realising it was no use. Nothing would be able to protect him from the frigid cold freeing his very core. If only there were a way for him to escape this forest, to be somewhere warm and homely again - 

He paused. He was alone in his body, in this forest - but was he truly alone in his mind? Yesterday, when the King had urged him to enter his mindscape, he'd discovered another land, another people. If he could only reach that mindscape again, where those witches and wyverns had roamed, then he would no longer be alone.

He sat up abruptly, braced his strong forearms on his knees, and tried to let the water dripping from the trees mimic a steely wind, the chase of a wyvern's breath. He could feel the land hidden in his consciousness beckoning to him, begging him to enter its warm embrace. His mind strained as he embraced the swirling fog, letting it hide his thoughts, blind his emotions. He had nothing left in this abysmal forest, and so he dived into the swirling black lurking in the back of his mind, headfirst into anything. Anyone. 

Salt. Sand. Summer.

The world imploded in a sudden brilliance and when his eyes focused again, he was no longer curled up in his bedroll, in that dismal forest. He was no longer restlessly waiting for the King to return, no longer sidelined. A smile broke on his face and his heart lifted. 

He was standing on a rocky outcrop, the sea gently roiling beneath him. Beams of sunlight shone down through the clouds above, creating patterns that reflected off the water and danced about the rocks. And when he heard a crashing roil beneath him, it was not from an impending storm, but simply from the sea foaming against the rock barrier. He felt he could finally breathe, in this new salty air. And this far above the sea spray, above the world, he felt as if nothing were tethering him to the earth.

His eyes traced the loose rock beneath his feet, and followed the stark lines of slate to a patch of tufty grass nestled for shelter under a solitary Meridian tree. It stood like a Goddess over the landscape. Where Orcus' mindscape had been a galaxy of empty, limitless power, this place - his place - was sharp and ancient and unpredictable. It was as if somebody had carved out his very soul and being and brought it to this one rocky shore. It felt like Benjali. It felt like home.

He threw out his hand, gaining confidence in his ability as he visualised a familiar moss green, plump armchair - the exact armchair which his father used to perch himself in as he read. It appeared before him, albeit the wrong colour and dimples appeared on his face as he smiled hard. YES. He was getting the hang of this! His mindscape - this rocky beach - was his to command. He looked around considering. He was missing something, someone. What was it? Beautiful setting, beautiful furniture... a beautiful girl. 

The girls in Benjali had told him he was different, not like other boys. When they cried into his shoulder he would hold them to show he alone understood. When he grew his hair long they had set up braid trains and he had been at its centre. He had been a terrible braider, but it was the thought that counted, and they had still loved it. When the girls wreathed him in their shell necklaces he wore them like a king until the twine broke - and even then, he had kept the shells to treasure. When they were harvesting the meridians - those great, ancient trees which harvested the sweetest fruit - he had found himself carrying the greatest loads. And when one of the girls slipped and fell, he was always there to catch her.

His train of thought was derailed in a brutal crash because they were all just memories. He felt, sitting in his own mind, that he was surrounded by ghosts. He paced along the rocky cliff, sea spray soaking his shirt, trying to get his thoughts back on track. Ok, a beautiful girl, beautiful girls... And she must be as beautiful, interesting and engaging as me. 

So what did he like? That was the big question. He continued pacing, deep in thought, grateful for the fleeting chance to think of something other than his current predicament. He'd always liked how Maria's long hair had whipped in the wind as they'd sat on the beach. He'd liked the endless blue depths of Arya's eyes. He'd liked the feeling of Tia's full lips on his. He'd liked how the top of Syrah's head had rested just under his chin when they'd hugged and he'd liked the graceful length of Darla's fingers as she'd played him piano. 

He smiled satisfactorily as a complete image formed in he mind. She would be perfect. He believed the act would be as easy as the other objects he had summoned and gave only a thought to materialise the girl as a corporeal figment of his dreamscape. When she appeared, she was... not quite the girl he had imagined. Perhaps he had been too thoughtless. Though as he gazed her over he realised it didn't matter because he was no longer alone, and she was undoubtedly the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. 

She was seated in his armchair, her back to the open cliff face and the purring sea. Though she was not tense, she had an energy about her - a spark that's density peaked in her alluring gaze. Gods, her eyes were simply spellbinding. Her left was a rapturous shade of gold, the other like the depths of the deepest sparkling sea. Her cheekbones sat high on her face framed by long silvery blonde hair. His eyes roamed her smooth expression, gaze travelling down to her lips, full and carmine. He watched as they parted.

"Szia." Her voice was low, rustling through the summer day like a soft breeze. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Wait, wait a minute. Was that the language of Eyllwe, how would she know that? He drew his eyes from her lips back to her eyes with bewilderment before it dawned on him. Ohhh, she was in his imagination, part of his mind and he knew Eyllwish so it made sense she would too. Right. Of course.

"Hello?"

Oh crap, he'd been distracted for too long, how impolite of him to leave his babe hanging. He took her in again, perched on the armchair, eyes growing more watchful and wary by the moment. Fiddling, seemingly uncomfortably, with a pendant around her neck. It was now or never. A swathe smile bloomed on his face. Okay, charm time. 

The girl seemed to have noticed the shift in his demeanor and her eyes narrowed as he approached. He winked and looked around comically. "Damn, I must be in a gallery, cause you truly are a work of art." He swept forward. "Hi, beautiful, how are you?"

At his words a small, roguish smile curved her lips. He brushed a hand through his mob of hair and grinned back. It was already working. She was already relaxing. Damn, this was easier than he'd thought. He reached out a hand in greeting and she looked at it than at him, a still wary but amused expression growing on her face. They both paused for a moment, seemingly challenging each other before she reached out a hand gracefully. But instead of grasping his in a handshake as he'd expected she simply rested her hand on he top of his.

His brain stalled for a moment. What? But he quickly let out a delighted exhale as he realised what she was intending. Oh, she was going to play that game then. Nice try, but he'd done this before. He gripped her fingers lightly and keeping his chocolate eyes locked with hers bent down and brushed his lips gently against the back of her hand. 

"Enchanted."

She smiled at him through narrowed eyes, and as she removed her hand from his swung her legs from the arm of chair and onto the slick rock. His smiled wavered as she surveyed the peaceful rockface, and the giant meridian tree looming at its peak. Her expression hardened, and she began to walk briskly away from the cliff, her bare feet slapping violently against the smooth granite. He was left in her wake, surprised and confused. Wait. What?

He jogged a few steps after her. "Where are you off to? We were hitting it off rather splendidly."

Her head barely turned as she continued walking away. "In your dreams"

He almost chuckled at the irony of that statement. "We are in my dreams."

She ignored him and continued, but he was not letting her go. Normally, if a girl had rejected him so blatantly he would, of course, respect it and concede, but this was his vision after all, this was just his subconscious and magic intertwining. Things were meant to go his way inevitably. Surely. So he picked up the pace and stepped in front of her, halting both of their paths.

She sighed slowly in annoyance and he concentrated. Focused on sliding the armchair across the cliff and over to where they were. He closed his eyes for a split second and opened then again to a startled yelp as the girl was swept off her feet and onto the chair which had been going much faster than he'd anticipated.

Her face coloured slightly at his interference, and she quickly leapt off the chair before growling, "I don't know who you are, but you better back off."

Her anger made him uneasy, but he brushed it off with a wink, reminding himself that this was his mindscape, not hers. "Oh, you don't know me yet, but trust me you definitely want to."

She gave him a look of bewilderment, evidently shocked at his persistence. "Trust me, I wouldn't waste my energy on you." A dismissal which he was, again, not having.

He shuffled back into her line of view and leant an arm against the chair an easy grin on his face. "Oh, tired are you, too little energy to devote to moi. Well, we must do something about that, let me get you something to help." He smirked devilishly. "Hungry?"

He watched her face go from angry disinterest to angry surprise. His amused expression only deepened as he said, "No, not hungry, apparently. Thirsty?" Oh he was smooth. That was the best line he'd ever come up with. When he woke up, he'd have to remember to write that down somewhere; his skills certainly weren't rusty. Or so he thought. He curled his hand through the air, visualising a glass of chilled water. It appeared in his hand and he added a slice of lemon for good measure. "Water?"

She leant forward and snatched the glass from his hand, swirling it once before promptly upending it on his shoes and tossing it into a patch of sand. He stepped back in surprise, and as if she had been waiting for the opportunity breezed past him as he spluttered, "Wha-- what." He flicked his damp shoe, sending a spray of water onto the ground. "Gods damn it, where are you going?" She was still walking away! Where was she going, where could she even go? Even he didn't know how far the terrain of his mind stretched. 

He caught up to her again and she stopped sharply before turning to him and sighing tiredly, "I don't have time for this. I'll find my own way home, don't worry about me."  
  
He just looked at her. "But you're mine."   
  
Her hair flicked as she shook her head and stared at him, eyes boring into his. "I am no ones."  
  
He was so confused. "You are a figment of my imagination, a part of my mind, and clearly," he gestured to her, "you're perfect for me. And I'm perfect for you."  
  
She scoffed. "Trust me, you're not even close, dream boy."  
  
"Well as the man in your dreams, I can make your every wish come true."  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and said with vehemence, "At this point I would rather jump of a cliff."

He chuckled and took a small pleasure as her scowl deepened. She went from beautiful to hot so very fast when she was angry. "Hmm, a little dramatic if you ask me. But if that's what you really want, then you're in the perfect place." He gestured to the open cliff face before them, and the endless sea beyond. He turned to her again, another sarcastic quip on his tongue....

But before he could even begin his sentence she took a running leap for the cliff, the echo of her thanks on the wind. She was moving so fast. What, why would she do that? He didn't think she was actually going to jump. His mind muddled in panic as he tried to think of a solution to this rather pressing issue. The water might cushion her fall...No, she would hit it too hard... feathers? No, that would be stupid. Oh my Gods, this was all his fault. Wait - sky, just turn the bottom of the cliff into endless sky, then she would fall right back down to him. Right, that had to work.

He could barely breathe as she lept off the edge, her long legs parting from the solid ground, like a wyvern leaping into an abyss. He sprinted over to the edge and looked precariously over. Indeed, as he had intended, the rocky cliff flowed down into an open cyan abyss of fluffy white clouds. She was nowhere to be seen. He looked up and waited; it'd be any moment now. 

Around ten seconds later, she fell from the sky above, a silent, steely angel from the heavens. He watched her fall, shuffled a few feet to the left, and held his hands out. She was coming at him quick, her speed increasing every second until - ah, she was so easy to catch. He had designed her to belong in his arms, after all. 

He gazed at her bewildered face with a small grin, before teasing, "So, I can see that you're definitely falling for me." She shoved herself out of his arms, and with a small amount of shock he realised she was shaking. Perhaps he'd taken this too far.

"Get me out of here," she ordered. "Get me out of this place right now!"

He stood still, completely confused as to why this girl was fighting him so much. He'd never met anyone like her before. He began to speak, but as he rose his head he noticed that her features were becoming less defined, less corporeal. She gazed downwards at her hand with relief, which was slowly fading away from her. She was disappearing, leaving his dreamscape as quickly as she had came. He reached out to grab her hand, but his arm passed through empty air as she faded like a wraith in the wind. 

She was gone, and he was, once again, alone.


	22. Asterin Blackbeak-Havilliard

"Do you have enough teggya? If you don't, we can get you some more. We can get you anything, for what you have done for our people."

Asterin stood unnaturally still, feet imprinted in the dark dirt beneath her as the village elder continued to utter his thanks. She'd hoped to sneak out of the town quickly, keeping their actions as subtle as possible given the circumstance. But thanks to Benji's stunts, she'd had to spend the last couple of hours fending off the crowds that surrounded him and listening to the many citizens and elder's gratitude. 

"We don't have many, but we could spare you some horses. To help carry your loads. They do seem quite heav - "

She knew he was just being polite but she couldn't take one more minute of the elder's babbling. She interrupted, "No, we're fine, thankyou. Our horses are strong and you have already been kind enough." She glanced warily to where Luka, Quinn, and Benji stood by their horses. Benji's face still glowed with triumph, his hands still clutching at her sword which he now had stuck through one of his leather belt loops. Valg blood still coated it's metal. She really needed to get that sword back and clean it for the love of Gods, what did he think we was doing. The metal would rust, Valg blood was highly corrosive. 

She should have known better, better than to hand him that sword, and yet in the moment it had seemed right to give him that chance. That chance to understand what it meant to kill. She looked at him again and swallowed slowly. It had been wrong of her to think he would understand.

The village elder, who had straightened at her interruption, began to look at her imploringly and opened his wrinkled mouth again as if to speak. Asterin refocused quickly and hardened her vacant voice to ensure that this man understood that they needed to leave. Now. "I'm sorry. Thankyou for everything, but we will be leaving, immediately."

She swiftly turned on her heal, and made to walk over to her friends when the village elder's wiry hand grasped her forearm; his hand retracted almost immediately as it came away flaked with dried blood and mud. "Wait," his voice growing ragged, "You can't go! What if they come back?" But as she looked at the old man, at his disheveled clothing, the dark circles beneath his eyes, she realised that this man meant her no harm. He was simply terrified of the return of the demons who could have easily levelled his town. 

"I understand that you are afraid. But they're gone. We killed them." She gestured to the crumbling buildings, to the mourning families around her. "You need to rebuild - and we need to continue on our journey. You have to let us go."

The village elder nodded, taking a deep, wary breath. The man was not blinded by his panic, but simply wanted to protect his town; he understood that what usually seemed to be the end rarely ever was. 

"But, before you leave," he began, a seriousness in his voice Asterin had not yet heard, "you must know something." Asterin inclined her head in a silent gesture for him to continue. "I am not a young man, and in my time I have heard the tales of all those who have passed through this village. These creatures are unpredictable, and if you are to fight them - and succeed - then you will need all the help you can get. They are not beings to be toyed with." He took a deep breath, as if to highlight the importance of what he was about to say. "There is a man," the elder emphasised, "who is rumoured to be well versed in these creatures. He lives on the outskirts of Lerea, under the name of London. He can help you - teach you. So that you can fight these beings without fear." 

Asterin took a moment to absorb the information she'd just been given. She'd largely underestimated this man; he was far more wise than she'd anticipated. She felt a tug in her gut, a tug which told her that the words the spoke were true. Lerea was south - very south, far further south than they had ever originally planned to travel. But after what she'd witnessed today, what she'd done... If this threat spread throughout the entire continent, if there were more of the Valg hiding out there... 

She would not waste this information. 

He nodded at her, and she inclined her head in silent thanks, turning on her heel for a final time. She would go, go to find this London, but perhaps not right away. There was somewhere else she needed to visit first, someone else. She'd been treading a fine line, lately, especially since her medicinal stores had been... Depleted. She would never tell anyone, but she'd felt herself slipping today, felt as if she were falling into that dip of power as deep as the universe itself, so deep she feared there was no bottom. 

She could not let it happen again. 

~~~

"You want to go to Rifthold? But... Why?" Quinn placed a pale hand on her jaunty hip, her grey eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Wouldn't we be better off continuing southward towards Lerea? There's no need for us to take a detour." Asterin bit her lip, schooling her features into neutrality. "Thanks to the... Events which have unfolded over the last few days, we need to replenish our medicinal stores. Rifthold is the closest major city which will be able to provide us with what we need."

She glanced over to the boys. Luka was nodding at her words, as she had expected, and even Benji seemed to be agreeing with her. Quinn still looked suspicious, but Luka hastened to voice his agreeance. "Yeah, I agree with Asterin. We should go to Rifthold. In fact, I think that - "

Quinn cut him off, before locking her deep, grey eyes on Asterin's of vivid blue and gold. "Asterin, your parents will be in Rifthold," she took a deep breath, before continuing softly, "she will be." 

Internally, Asterin groaned. Trust Quinn to bring her personal life into this.

"Which is exactly why we're going to Rifthold. We need her help." More than you could ever know, she added to herself. 

Quinn shook her head in resignation as Luka turned and scampered towards Juniper, his eyes alight with the anticipation of getting moving again. Benji gave her a sheepish smile before following in suit, leaving Asterin standing alone with Quinn on the edge of the ever-darkening woods. Evening light seeped through the trees, drawing dusty spirals of the fields in front. They stood silently side by side staring out for a moment before she felt Quinn shift beside her.

"Asterin..." Quinn began, "First, you hand Benji a blade as if you were giving him a present for Yulemas. And now, you want to veer completely off course to go to Rifthold?"

Asterin let her gaze wander. She could understand why Quinn would question her. Her reasoning for the detour had been… lacking. But what was she supposed to say? That she urgently needed to see her ex-girlfriend for private reasons. Gods no.

"Asterin?" 

Asterin raised her eyes to her friend's of pale grey, and forced every bit of steel she had left into her voice as she said, "It's fine. Don't worry about it." She hoisted her leather travel satchel higher up her strong shoulders, and made towards where the boys stood beside their horses just beyond the drooping tree line. 

"It was the Valg, wasn't it?" Quinn said abruptly. Asterin froze, her heart thrumming in her chest as Quinn continued. "It wasn't your fault, it was a monster that attacked a woman with child. You had no choice." She watched as Quinn's eyes grew intense. "We all would've done the same."

Yes - they all would've done it. But were they truly destroying a monster? In that moment she'd brought her blade to the Valg's - that man's - neck... He'd changed. Become human. She could still see those sapphire eyes, and the plea they'd held as she sliced her sword across his throat, strong and true. 

It didn't stop her from wondering if there could have been another way.

"I... Just wonder, sometimes, whether we know what we're doing," Asterin said finally, still avoiding her friend's eyes. "We're just children," she said louder, "pretending to play God." And it was true. This wasn't some adventure, some fairy tale - lives were at stake.

"I know, Asterin," Quinn said frustrated. "But we're trying. What else can we do?" Asterin sighed, shifting herself away from her friend. Of course she didn't understand. Quinn was so carefree, so reckless; she could never understand the regret that wracked her body.

And so she gave her friend a small smile. "You're right," she lied. "I'm overthinking everything - we should just get going." Asterin stood up and quickly gathering her supplies. Quinn, relieved she wouldn't have to engage in a meaningful conversation, nodded her head in quick agreeance and began to walk towards where Benji and Luka were standing, holding their horses. She took one step further before turning to Asterin again.

"You sure you still want to go to Riftho-"

"Yes, Quinn, I still want to go to Rifthold."

"Damn."

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
